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ADVENTURES 



AND 



ACHIEVEMENTS 



AMERICANS: 



SERIES OF NARRATIVES 



ILLUSTKATING THEIR 



HEROIbll, SELF-RELIANCE, CENIDS AND ENTERPRISE. 



BY HENRY HOWE, 

ArTHOB OF HISTORIES OK VIRGINIA, OHIO, AND THE GREAT WEST; TRAVELS 09 
CELEBRATED TRAVELERS; LIFE AND DEATH ON THE OCEAN, ETC. 



lUusttattlr bj ^. ®. C Saxltj anil otitta. 



NEW YORK: 
GEO. r. TUTTI.E, 102 Nassau Streei 

CINCINNATI: 
HENRY nOWE. Ill Main Street. 

I860: 






Entered accordinc; to Act <if Congress, in the year 1858, 

BY HENRY HOWE, 

Id the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, for tlie Southern 

District of Ohio. 



^X>i 



E. MORGAN A SONS, 

STEREOTYPERS, PRINTERS, AND BINDERS, 

111 M«in street. 



? f 



I I 
PREFACE. 



SrscE when, by the right of birth and the lapse of years, we were privi- 
leged to walk up, take the freeman's oath, and drop a ballot in the littla 
box, so potent in this government of "the people," we have been almost 
wholly engaged in the preparation and in the publication of books for cir- 
culation by traveling agents exclusively. 

In the meanwhile, we have attained to a point where it has become 
" past meridian " with us, and we now pen the preface to our sixth octavo. 
All of these, derived from varied sources, original or published, in our own 
or in the language of others, have been constructed with an especial ref- 
erence to the wants of that class, who, either from habit or their isolation, 
rarely or never enter a bookstore, and who would, in a measure, bo desti- 
tute of the information imparted by books, were they not brought for pur- 
chase to their very doors. We have the gratifying evidence that among 
these our publications have been widelj' popular; and have proved the 
means, as we believe, of lasting pleasure and instruction to the inmates of 
many a humble cabin that dots the prairies or skirls the forests of the more 
remote West. 

The title of this book was made before the book itself was begun. We 
have endeavored to adapt the contents to the name, in a collection of arti- 
cles exhibiting national character, and mainly by individual examples. 
Such as are already sufficiently familiar to the public are, in general, not in- 
serted, from a desire to render the work more attractive to our readers by 
its novelty. We have further aimed to gratify a variety of tastes, and to 
make this such, that it will be a favorite volume with every American 
family that may possess it. 

This work, in its variety, is adapted to all classes ; both male and femah", 
young and old, the Christian, the philanthropist, those wlio read simply for 
excitement and those who read solely for information, will ;ill ThkI it a 
source of pleasure. We believe there is no work of' our day that tends so 
greatly to gratify one's patriotism — to make one glad that he is an Amcri- 
ciin citizen — as this; which shows so well the Heroism, Self-reliance, 
Genius and Enterprise of our Countrymen, in the Olden Time and in Our 
Time — in Peace and in War — on Land and on Sea — at Homo and Abroad. 
Those who obtain it will be proud of the facts it contains, for there is much, 
very much in it to send a thrill of exultant joy to the heart of every 
American. 

(iii) 



iv PREFACE. 

We terminate the book in the twenty-third article, by a choice collection 
of about one hundred specimens of American Poetry, selected with refer- 
ence to diversified tastes and mental conditions. Contrary to general 
opinion, we believe that Poetry — giving that word a broad definition — is 
universally lilied ; that is, some ideas expressed by versification please all, 
better than the same given in prose, though we do think that Poetry, usu- 
ally, relishes and digests easier, if, like sweetmeats, it is taken in small quan- 
tities at a single sitting. 

Our engravings, in the highest style of art, are by eminent American 
artists, and were designed expressly for the book. We add, for the informa- 
tion of certain of our readers, a fact which, as a publisher, it becomes us to 
state, that the expense of these alone, in cash, was to us more than the cost, 
at government price, of a square mile of our national domain ; yet, to 
m;iny, this will be considered a useless expenditure, in view of the general 
want of appreciation of the excellent in Art, especially with the very large 
mass who judge of bulk, and not quality, in their guage of the cost of 
books, and who would be content with crude and cheap illustrations. But 
the " will do " is not our standard. We trust there is a vein of common 
sense, running through the great public, that in its final judgment duly ap- 
preciates those generous in their endeavors to render their oflerings every 
way excellent. 

But, not resting satisfied with even these, we have, at an additional ex- 
pense of some four hundred dollars, had designed, expressly for the sub- 
scribers of this work, by that Artist of surpassing skill, Mr. F. 0. C. Darley, 
and engraved in the mezzotint style, one of the most sublime and tragic 
scenes in American History, entitled, "The Last Words of Captain Nathan 
Ilale, the Hero-Martyr of the American Revolution — 

' Mij only regret is, thai I have hut one life to lose for my country.' " 

On the left in this beautiful steel engraving, is shown the fatal Tree, 
with the Ladder, Rope, Coffin, and Negro Executioner. In front stands tha 
majestic figure of the young Patriot, and that of the brutal Provost Marshal, 
the infamous Major Cunningham; who, true to his character, had denied 
Hale his dying request for the Bible, and had also destroyed his letters to 
his friends ; giving as reason for so doing, " that the Rebels might not know 
they had a man who could die with such firmness." 

The Engraving is a "cabinet" picture. It is the first lime that this sub- 
ject has been delineated by Art, and we can but feel grateful that we have 
been the means of thus having it perpetuated for all coming time, and in a 
design, too, which so greatly honors American genius. Each subscriber is 
given a copy, which is separate from the work, that he may frame it, and 
adorn his walls with a scene so elevating in its tendency, as an example of 

loftv Patriotism, and heroic Self-sacrifice. 

U. H. 
CiNciXN.^Ti, Ohio, No. Ill Main-Street 



CONTENTS. 



THE HERO MARTYR. 

FAOE. 

Captaik Nathan Hale, the Hero Martyr of the Amurioan Revolu- 
tion. --..-----.-.IS 



EARLY AMERICAN ARTISTa 

Ach'.ovcmcnts of some of the E;irly American Artists. - - - 25 

Benjamin West. 27 

Charles Gilbert Stiiavt. 37 

John Trumbull. .........43 



BAND OF HEROES. 

An accur.ate and interestino;'account of the hardships and sufferings of 
that Band of Heroes, who traversed the '.vilderness in the Campaign 
aga'nst Quebec, in 1775. --.-..--51 



EMINENT AMERICAN TRAVELER. 

The wanderings of that Eminent American Traveler, John LodyarJ, 
in various parts of the world. --.....gs 



RESCUE OF GENERAL LAFAYETTE. 
The heroic adventure of Francis linger, a young man of South Caro- 
lina, and of his comp.anion, Dr. Bollman, in their attempted Rescue 
of General Lafayette from an .iVustrian Prison, at Olmuti'.. - - 109 

(V) 



Vl CONTENTS. 

EMINEXT AMERICAN INVENTORS. 

PAOE. 

The triumphs ofsotne of the most Eminent American Inventors. - 123 
Bli Whitney, inventor of the Cotton-Gin. . - . . 124 
Robert Pulton, the Steamboat Inventor. ..... 132 

Samuel F. B. Mor.'^e, and the Magnetic Telegraph. - - - 137 
George Steers, the American Ship Architect. .... - 140 

Charles Goodyear, the inventor of Vulcanized ludia-Rubber - 146 
Samuel Colt, inventor of the Repeating Fire-Arm. ... 149 

Cyrus H. M'Cormick, inventor of the Reaping Machine. - - 153 
Isaac M. Singer, and the Sewing Machine. 157 



ADVENTURES OF A REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER. 

Remarkable Adventures of Israel R. Potter, who was a soldier in the 
American Revolution, and took a distinguished part in the Battle of 
Bunker Hill, in which he received three wounds; after which he 
was taken prisoner by the British and conveyed to England, where 
for thirty years he obtained a livelihood, for himself and family, by 
crying, " Old chairs to mend," through the streets of London. He 
did not succeed in obtaining a passage to his native country until the 
year 1822, when he was in the seventy-ninth year of his age, and 
after an absence of forty-eight years. ------ 163 



THE TWO ORATORS. 

The Two Orators of our Revolutionary Era. . - - . . 189 

James Otis, of Massachusetts. ....-- 189 

Patrick Henry, of Virginia. - - - ... - 200 



AMERICAN TEMPERANCE REFORMERS. 
The Achievements of the American Temperance Reformers, a histori- 
cal sketch. ----------- 213 



DESERTION OF JOHN CHAMPE. 
The pretended desertion of John Champe to the British, in the War 
of the American Revolution, for the purpose of Capturing the Traitor, 
Benedict Arnold. --------- -51 



CX)STENTS. ni 

LAND AND SEA PERILS. 

PAGB. 

Narrative of the Lis-nd and Sea Perils of Andrew Sheruurne, in the War 
of the Americo'i Revolution, including his sufferings in the Old Mill 
Prison, England, and afterward in the Old Jersey Prison Ship, at the 
Wallabout, Brooklyn, New York. 261 



CRUISE OP THE ESSEX. 

Narrative of the Cruise of the Essex, a United States frigate, under the 
command of Captain David Porter, made to the Pacific Ocean, in the 
years 1812, '13 and 'U, the period of the last war with England. - 299 



AMERICAN COLONY OF LIBERIA. 

The wise and heroic conduct of Jehudi Ashman, as shown in saving 
from destruction and in establishing on a firm basis the American 
Colony of Liberia. 357 



MIER EXPEDITION. 

Narrative of the Mier Expedition, with the particulars of the decima- 
tion of the prisoners, and a history of the survivors, who were im- 
prisoned in the Castle of Perote, in Mexico. ----- 383 



AMOS LAWRENCE, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 

Incidents in the life of Amos Lawrence, the Model Merchant, and the 
Christian Philanthropist, who from an humble beginning became one 
of the wealthiest men in America, and remarkable for his enlarged 
benevolence — he having given away, in the course of his life, more 
than seven hundred thousand dollars for the benefit of mankind. - 411 



FIVE YEARS IN THE U. S. ARMY. 
Five Years an American Soldier, comprising adventures at Palo Alto, 
Resaca de la Palma, Monterey, Vera Cruz, Ccrro Gordo, and in the 
battles in the Valley of Mexico, interspersed with anecdotes of mili- 
tary life in peace and in war. ...---- 429 



Vin CONTENTS. 

AMERICAN ARCTIC EXPEDITION. 

PACK. 

Narrative of the American Arctic Expedition, in search of Sir John 
Franklin, under the command of Dr. Elisha Kent Kane, U. 8. N. - 485 



EMINENT AMERICAN MISSIONARY. 
The Achievements of that Eminent American Missionary, Adoniram 
Judson. 51J 



DIFFICULTIES WITH AUSTRIA. 
The Conduct of our Country and Countrymen in their difScultics with 
Austria and the Austrians. --.--.-. 541 

Arrest and Imprisonment of a young American in Hungary. - 542 

The Correspondence of Daniel Webster, the American Secretary of 
State, with Chevalier Hillseman, the Austrian Minister. - - 564 

American Intervention in behalf of, and Hospitality to, the Hunga- 
rian Exiles, including an account of Kossuth's visit to the U. S. 565 

Heroism of Captain Ingraham in the Kosta aflair. . - - - 568 



PHILANTHROPIC ENTERPRISES. 
Narrative of some of the Philanthropic Enterprises in the Great Me- 
tropolis, New York, for the benefit of miserable, degraded classes. - 571 



THE WORLD'S FAIR. 
America at the World's Fair, held in the Crystal Palace, London, in 
1851 ; together with a description of the great Yacht Race off the 
Isle of Wight, in which the New York Yacht America gained a 
signal triumph. 599 



ACHIEVEMENTS OF AMERICANS ABROAD. 
Adventures and Achievements of Americans Abroad ; a collection of 

interesting miscellanies. 023 

Adventures of the eccentric and patriotic Female Artist, Patience 

Wright. 623 

Adventures of Elkanah Watson. - • . o - - - 628 
Americans in Russia. ...--.-. 639 
American National Courtesy. ...---- 642 
Americans in Australia. .--.---- 646 
American Enterprise. .-.------ C49 



INDEX TO TJIE COLLECTION OF AMERICAN POETRY. 



In those instances in wliich tho poetry is prefaced with a notice of the author, his or 
her first name is given in full below. 



TITLE OP POEMS. 



Voung America Taking his First Steps 

The Death of Captain Nathan Ilalc 

The Convict to liis Mother 

Footsteps of Anpels 

A Castle in the Air 

Stanzas 

Tlie American Flag 

Family Mcetinir 

Sparkling ami Bright 

Song of the Drunkards 

A Whaling Song 

The Wife 

The Wants of Man 

Bloescd are They that Mourn 

The Dav is Done 

The Choice 

WooJmau, Spare that Tree 

The Snow Storm 

The Life Voyage— .\ Ballad 

On the Deatii of J. R. Diake 

Old Songs 

A Marriage Song 

The Yankee's Iletnrn from Camp 

Little Mary's Good Morning 

Hail Cohimliia 

The Battle Field 

Resiirnatiou 

The Last Leaf 

Old Grimes 

Pictiircs of MemoiT 

When other Friends arc round Thee 

The Lapse of Time 

The Coral Grove Ijas. G. Pcreivnl.-. . 

A l'>alm of Life IL W. Longfellow, 

The Little Orator j'l'liaddcns Harris . 

You'd scarce expect One of my Age iDavid Everett. . . . 

A Life on the Ocean Wave iKpcs Satgcant . . . . 

The Settler 'Alfred B". Street. . . 

The Fire of Driftwood IL W. Longfellow. 

Marco Bozzaris F. G. Ilallirk 

Song of Marion's Men Vf. C Bryant 

The Song of Steam Geo. W. Cutter. . . . 

Khyme of the Rail John G. Siixc 

Gone .Tohn G. Whittier. . 

Snow Kiilph Hoy t 

(ii) 



Cora M. Eager 

M. Finch. 

•Anonymous 

Henry W. Longfellow. 

Levi Frisbic 

Richard H. Wilde.... 

Joseph R. Drake 

Charles Spiag\ie, 

Chiis. F. Hoffman 

Wni. B Tappaii 

John Osborn 

.Vnna P. Dennics 

John Q. Aihims 

W. C. Bryant 

H. W. Longfellow.... 

Susanna Rowsou 

Geo. P. Morris. ...... 

Scba Smith 

l''iances S. Osgood. . . 
Fitz-Greenc Hallcck. . 
Willis Gavlord Clark. . 

Jas, W. Ward 

Anonymous 

Anouymons 

Fiiincis Hopkiusou. . . 

W. (; Bryant 

H. W. Lo'nslellow.... 
Oliver W. Holmes.... 

Albert G. Greene 

Alice C Carey 

G.P.Morris.' 

W. C. Bryant 



;66 

«07 
0G8 

069 

670 

071 
073 

674 

;7C 

i;77 

078 
070 
liSO 
081 

082 
083 



0S4 
085 
G8G 

C87 
688 



INDEX TO POETRT. 



TITLE OF rOEilS. 


AUTHOR. 


p. 


An Incident in a Railioad Car 


Jas. W. Lowell 


fiR'l 




G. P. Morris 


fiin 


MvBiid 






The Couiitvy Lovers 

The riitiht of Time 


Thomns G. Fessendeu 

J. G. Percivnl 


691 


A Song of tlie Western Pioiieei-s ■ 


William D. Gallagher. . . . 
N. P. Willis 


fi1+ 




E A. Poe 






William W. Fosdick 

J. R. Lowell 


fi<)'i 


The Heritaire 




On Listeiiiui; to a Cricket ' 


Andrews Norton 

Emma C. Embury 


.f 


Ballad ....: 


n% 






The Babe and the Lilv 


J.W.Ward 

H. W. Longfellow 

Mary Louisa Chitwood. . . 
Thomas Buchanan Read . . 

W. B. Tappan 

H. W. Longfellow 

Chailes G. Eastmau 

J. W. Ward 


697 




The Wayside Sprir.s 


698 


Heaven 


Extracts from " The Sona: of Hiawatha." 


TOO 


Ella : 






_, 




W. D. Gallagher 


701 


Poetvv 






John G. C'. Braiuard . . . . 

James C. Percival . . 

C. M. Eager 


,. 


Home 


., 


Will the New-Year Come To-Ni^ht Mamma I . 


702 
703 


The Old Oaken Bucket .^ 


Samuel W'oodworlh 

Jonathan Lawrence 

William C. Bryant 

Sarah J. Hale." 




704 

11 


Thanatopsis 


Tt Snows 


7nrt 


BlessinG;s on Chiidren 


Wm. Gilmore Simms 

W. C. Bryant 


707 




708 


Seasons of Pi'aver 


Henry Ware 


709 




Thos. Scott Kcv 


710 




W. C. Bryant 


711 




Susanna Rowsou 

W Holmes 


71'2 


The Ballad of the Ovsterman. . . - 


71 '5 


Sweet Home 


John Howard Payne 

Catharine H. Esling 

W. C. Bryant 


714 


Brother. Come Home 






715 




Chas. I'enno Hoffman 

Philip Frenc.au >. . . . 

Edgar Allan Poe 

Benjamin Franldin 

Geo. W. Doane 


Indian Death Son"'. 


71 1; 


The Haven 


717 




710 


Wliat is that, Mother ^ 


T'^O 


The Frost 


Hannah F. Gould 

J G Perciyal 


721 




Absalom 


Nathaniel P. Willis 

G P. Mori is 


72''' 


The West 


7''4 


The Auiei'ifan Hero , 


W. C. Bryant 

Nathaniel Niles 


725 
70^ 






729 
730 
731 
732 




0. W. Holmes 


One Hour with Thee 


Stephen Griffith Gassaway. 
J. G. Percival 


It is gi-cjit for our Couiiti-y to Die 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



SUBJECT. 


DRAWN BY. 


ENGRAVED BY. 


P. 


Vignette Title 


Robert OBrien... 
Felix 0. C. Darley. 


A. H. Ritchie. 
Eli D. Hayes 


1 


^Captain Ingiaham promising Kostn the Pro- 
tection of the Aiiici ican Flag 


2 


Francis Hnger aiding Lafayette to escape 
from the Austrians 


F. 0. C. Barley... 


Elias J. Whitney. . 


109 


^Signing away his Liberty 


F. 0. C. Darley. . . 


E. J. Whitney 


213 


^The Essex and her Prizes 


James Hamilton . . 


E. D. Hayes 


299 


' Tho Mier Prisonew drawing ihe Fatal 
Beans 


F. 0. C. Darley... 


E. D. Hayes 


383 


•''tIic Thira'.y Soldiers at the Salt Water. . . 


F. 0. C. Darley... 


E.J. Whitney.... 


429 


V Scizofc of Judsou, the Missi'^nary 


F. 0. C. Darley... 


E. J.Whitney 


511 


'' The Heathen of the Five Points 


E. J. Whitney .... 

F. 0. C. Darley . . 


— Felter 


S71 


Victory of the Yacht America 


E. J. Whitney 


599 


Yonng America Taking his First Steps. . . 


F. 0. C. Darley... 


E. D. Hayes 


66» 


Last Words of Captain Nathan Hale, the 
Hero Martyr of the American Revolu- 
tion 


F. 0. C. Darley. 


■V. H. Ritchie. 




"Last Words of Captain Nathan Hale 


' is an engraving 


on steel, lO)^ by 


^H 



inches, and accompanies the book for the snbseribers to frame. 



(x!) 



CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE, 

T II E HERO MA 11 T Y R 

OF THE 

AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



"Thus, while foud Virtue wished to save, 
Hale, bright aud generous, found a hopeless grare: 
With Genius' living flame his bosom glowed, 
And Science lured him to her sweet abode; 
In Worth's fair path his feet adventured far. 
The pride of Peaee, the rising star of War j 
In Duty firm, in Danger calm as even — 
To friends uuchuuging, and sincere to Heaven. 
How short his course ! the piize how early won ! 
While weeping Friendship mourns her favorite stm." 

The period of the American Revolution was tlie lioroio era in the history 
of our country. With its great events we are all familiar; but of the steru 
virtues of our ance.stors, their patient self-denial, their enduring fortitude, 
and their trustful hope in that time of trouble, the half can never bo 
known. 

In that charming little book, the " Past Meridian," by Mrs. Sigouriiey, ia 
a simple narrative to this point, so touching that the memory of it should 
be impressed upon the heart of every youth in the land, as an elevating 
picture of patriotic virtue, worth more than the record of a score of battles. 
It w:is told to the writer by a good and hoary-headcd man, the Rev. Dr. 
David Smith, of Durham, Connecticut, who, with unimpaired intellect and 
cheerful piety, had passed many years beyond the allotted age of man. 

" My father was in the army during the whole eight years of the Revolu- 
tionary war, at first as a common soldier, afterward as an ofEcer. My mother 
had the sole charge of us, four little ones. Our house was a poor one, and 
far from neighbors. I have a keen remembrance of the terrible cold of soma 
of iho.se winters. The snow lay so deep and long, that it was difficult to 
cut or draw fuel from the woods, or to get our corn to the mill, when we 
had ari}-. My mother was the possessor of a cofTee-mill. In that she 
ground wlieat, and made coarse bread which we ate and were thankful. It 
was not always that we could be allowed as much even of this as our keen 
ajipetites craved. Many is tlie time that we have gone to bed with only a 
drink of water for our supper, in which a little molasses had been mingled. 
We patiently received it, for we knew our mother did as well for us as she 
sould, and hoped to have something better in the morning. She was never 

(151 



16 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

heard to repine, and young as we were, we tried to make her lovely spirit 
r.nd heavenly trust our example. When my father was permitted to come 
home, his stay was short, and he had not much to leave us, for the pay of 
those Avho had achieved our liberties was slight and irregularly rendered. 
Yet, when he went, ray mother ever bade him farewell with a cheerful face, 
and not to be anxious about his children, for she would watch over them 
night and day, and God would take care of the families of those who went 
forth to defend the righteous cause of their country. Sometimes we won- 
dered that she did not mention the cold weather, or our short meals, or her 
hard work, that we little ones might be clothed, and fed, and taught ; but 
she would not weaken his hands or sadden his heart, for, she said, a sol- 
dier's lot is harder than all. We saw that she never complained, but always 
kept in her heart a sweet hope, like a well of living water. Every night 
ere we slept, and every morning w-hen we arose, we lifted our little hands 
for God's blessing on our absent father and our endangered country." 

The story we have to relate is .alike interesting and ennobling, but 3'et 
of a melancholy nature — being the most sad of all the episodes of the 
American Revolution. It is cont.iined in the history of the young and 
gifted Nathan Hale. Of that long roll of patriotic men who died that 
we might be free, his last moments, beyond those of any other, were charac- 
terized by a sentiment so heroic, expressed under such circumstances, as to 
render it one of the most sublime and touching utterances that ever fell 
from human lips. 

Nathan Hale was born in Coventry, Connecticut, June 6, 1755. lie was 
the son of Richard Hale, a substantial farmer of th.at town, and a man of 
note among his neighbors, being a justice of the peace, a deacon of the 
church, and a member of the legislature. Young Hale was bred in that 
strict morality characteristic of the Puritans. Early showing a fondness for 
books, he was prepared for college under the tuition of the venerable Rev. 
Dr. Huntington, with the design of entering the ministry. Six years before 
the Revolutionary war, he became a student in Yale. Little has been pre- 
served of bis life there. He was noted, however, among his companions 
for extraordinary personal activity. He accomplished a feat in leaping on 
the New Haven Green, which so far surpassed everything of the kind before 
known, that the distance was long jjreserved by appropriate marks. On an- 
other occasion, he exhibited his activity by springing out from one hogshead 
into another, alternately. 

He graduated with honor in 1773, and for a short season taught school at 
Bast Haddam, where, it is said, "everybody loved him, he was so sprightly, 
intelligent, and kind." Next he took charge of a high school in New Lon- 
don, where "he soon had as many friends as there were individuals in the 
town." His leisure w.is partly given to reading and study, and partly to 
society, for which he had great fondness. The charms of the gentler sex 
were not lost upon him. He became ardently attached to Miss Hannah 
Adams of his native town, whom, doubtless, ho would have married, had 
not his tragic fate intervened. 

In person Hale was rather tall, being five feet ten inches in height, and 
though slender was gracefully formed ; his frame was elastic and wir\', as 
was shown by his extraordinary feats of agility ; his chest was broad, his 



OF AMERICANS. 17 

face full, with blue eyes, light complexion, and brown hair. To these phys- 
ical qualities \*as added an amiable winning address. 

Intense excitement was produced one evening in the latter part of April, 
1775, in the usually quiet town of New London, on the arrival of a mes- 
senger, with the startling news that the "regulars" had fired upon our peo- 
ple on the green at Lexington. "Let us march immediately, and never lay 
down our arms until wc gain our independence !" rang out the clear stern 
voice of Nathan Hale, to the excited assemblage that had gathered on the 
occasion. 

It was no diflScult matter to infuse the sentiment into the minds of all 
present. It was resolved to send Captain Coit's company into the field, and 
Hale volunteered to go with it. The next day, he went to his school for 
the last time, to bid his pupils farewell. He addressed them in an appro- 
priate little speech, and closed with an earnest prayer to the Almighty for 
liis blessings on them and on their country. 

A letter which he wrote at this period to the managers of the school, is 
preserved in Stuart's Life of Hale, from which we extract it : 

" Oentlenien — Having received information that a place is allotted me in 
the array, and being inclined, as I hope, for good reasons, to accept it, I am 
constrained to ask as a favor, that which scarce anything else would have 
induced me to, which is to be excused from keeping your school any longer. 
For the purpose of conversing npon this subject, and of procuring another 
master, some of your number think it best there should be a general meet- 
ing of the proprietors. The time talked of for holding it ;s six o'clock this 
afternoon, at the school-house. The year for which I eng.iged will expire 
within a fortnight, so that my quitting a few days sooner, I hope, will sub- 
ject you to no great inconvenience. School-keeping is a business of which 
I was always fond, but since my residence in this town, everything has con- 
spired to make it more agreeable. I have thought much of never quitting 
it but with life, but at present there seems to be an opportunity for more ex- 
tended public service. The kindness expressed to me by the people of the 
place, but especially the proprietors of the school, will always be very grate- 
fully remembered." 

This letter shows the patriotism of Hale, his nice sense of honor, and 
modest, unassuming nature. He also wrote to his father, whose designs for 
him in the ministry were now frustrated, "A sense of duty urges me to 
sacrifice everything for my country." 

Hale was commissioned as a lieutenant in Welib's Connecticut regiment. 
This corps was first employed in guarding the seacoast, in the vicinity of 
New London, the appearance of the British in the Sound having alarmed 
the country. Early in the ensuing autumn, it marched to join the main 
army under Washington, in the vicinity of Boston. In December, Hale 
started "on foot, through snovir ankle deep, to visit his frionds ir. Connecti- 
cut." About this period he was promoted to the rank of captain. 

During the winter spent in the siege of Boston, Hale became known, and 
he was, among all the younger officers, the one preferred for those duties 
requiring vigilance, activity, and skill. "I see," said a friend, in a letter 
written to him at this time, "you are stationed in the mouth of danger. I 
look upon your position as more perilous Vnan that of any other oflioer in 



18 ADVENTURES AND AClflEVEMENTS 

the camp." When not engaged in military duties, Hale devoted much of 
hia time to reading, especially works on the science of war. Feeling tho 
imijortance of discipline, ho gave such untiring attention to his men, that 
his company soon became one of the most thoroughly drilled and orderly 
in the service. When the American army was nearly annihilated by the 
defeat of Long Island, and the expiration of the terms for which tho sol- 
diers had enlisted, Hale generously relinquished his own pay to induce the 
men of his company to remain. 

Hale's fondness for athletic sports suffered no abatement in consequence 
of his military pursuits, for we find him, when at leisure, engaging with his 
brother ofScers in wrestling, riuining, jumping, and in other amusements of 
that nature. He was also scrupulously observant of his religious duties, 
being a regular attendant at camp worship, when such a privilege was not 
denied by some professional duty. 

In the succeeding spring (1776), the regiment to which Halo was at- 
tached proceeded, with others under the command of General Heath, to 
the vicinity of New York. He there became the principal in a brilliant 
little affair, from which he gained considerable eclat. In the East River 
lay a British vessel filled with supplies for the army. Although not 
armed, it was protected by a sixty-four gunship anchored only a few rods 
distant. Hale formed the project of capturing and taking her into the 
harbor of New York. 

Under cover of night, he embarked with a small party in a rowboat, and 
dropped down near their intended prize, and then pulled in their oars to 
wait until the moon should go down. When it was entirely dark, the little 
party resuming their oars, silently rowed toward the doomed vesseh As 
they approached her, the figure of a solitary sentinel was dimly seen pacing 
the deck of the man-of-war by which the supply vessel was guarded. The 
sentinel suddenly paused — then gazed out upon the water. The approach- 
ing rowboat rested a moment, and its crew with beating hearts waited to see 
if they were discovered. In a brief time, "All's well," was heard from 
the lips of the lookout, as he turned and disappeared in the gloom. A 
few more pulls with the oars and the patriots were alongside. Not a soul 
was on deck — all were below and asleep. They took possession of the ves- 
sel, fastened the sleeping sailors in the hold, and in a short time, without 
alarming the guard of the neighboring man-of-war, noiselessly sailed away, 
and succeeded in gaining a wharf with their fine prize, where an expectant 
crowd greeted them with loud huzzas and the waving of hats. The vessel 
was laden with stores of provisions and clothing, which were a valuable ac- 
quisition tojthe army. 

It was at a most gloomy period of the war of independence when Halo 
departed from the American camp, on a secret mission that sent a thrill of 
terror through those who were aware of its nature. The disastrous defeat 
of Long Island had just passed— Harlem Heights had been deserted, and 
White Plains had witnessed defeat. Shattered and depressed, tho Ameri- 
can army, like a crowd of fugitives, hovered around King's Bridge. The 
victorious Howe, flushed with success, was pursuing an enlarged system of 
operations, and it became evident that the concentrated forces of the in- 
vaders were to be let loose upon tho rebellious colonists. But whore tho 



OF AMERICANS. 19 

blow was to fall, no huni.in sagacity could foresee. Whellier they were to 
take possession of New York, cut off the ccmmuuioation of the American 
army, and claim the country by conquest, or proceed southward and make 
a descent where no preparation would present a barrier, were questions of 
anxious import to the American commander, and the solution of which was 
of vital importance. With all his vigilance, he could not unravel the de- 
signs of the enemy, whose movements were purposely contradictory. Never 
during that war, copious as are its records of difficulty, was Washington 
more perplexed or more filled with anxiety. Finally, ho concluded that 
.«ome oue must enter the British lines and gain the requisite information, or 
hu feared that all would be Vost. 

In this emergency, he applied to the bravo Colonel Knowllon, of the 
Connecticut line, for him to endeavor to obtain an officer for this service pos- 
sessing the rare union of qualities necessary to success. Knowlton assem- 
bled his officers, and made known to them the request of Washington, stat- 
ing the exigency of the case, and appealing to their patriotism, in the hope 
that some one would volunteer for the service. No one responded. Ho 
then addressed himself individuall}' to each of those present, but with no 
better success. Indeed, many of them seemed oflendcd that such a request 
should be made, in view of the danger of the mission and the ignominious 
death that would result on detection. Ouo of these, an officer remarkable 
for a spirit of hazardous adventure, replied, "No, no ! I am willing at any 
time, and on any terms, to fight the British ; but I wont go among them to 
bo hung like a dog." 

Knowlton was about despairing of success, when from the assembled 
group came the slow, firm words, " I will tmdertake it!" The speaker had 
just recovered from a severe illness, and was late in joining the council, or 
" I will undertake it," would have been heard sooner. 

All eyes turned toward the speaker, and a thrill of anguish pervaded tlie 
throng as they looked upon the pale, determined face of the universal fa- 
vorite, the young and noble Nathan Hale ! They at once closed around 
him, and remonstrated by every appeal which consideration and friendship 
could dictate, to abandon his purpose — the love of home, the ties of kin- 
dred, future fame, and a felon's death, were all in vain urged to dissuade 
him. Among those most importunate was Lieutenant, afterward General, 
Hull, his old classmate at Yale, who plead with him almost with tears to 
abandon the project. Hale listened to the appeals, and replied in these 
memorable words : 

" I think I owe to my country the accomplishment of an object so impor- 
tant, and so much desired by the commander of her armies — and I know of 
no other mode of obtaining the information, than by assuming a disguise 
and passing into the enemy's camp. I am fully sensible of the conse- 
quences of discovery and capture in such a situation, but for a year I have 
been attached to the army, and have not rendered any material service, 
while receiving compensation for which I make no return ; yet I am not 
influenced by the expectation of promotion or pecuniary reward. I wish 

TO BE USEFUL, AND EVERY KIND OF SERVICE NECESSARV FOR THE P0BLIO 

GOOD, BECOMES HONORABLE BY BEING NECES.SARY. If the exigencies of my 



20 ADVENTURES AND ACniEVEMENTS 

country demand a peculiar service, its claims to the performance of that 
«ervice are imperious." 

This was spoken with that air of lofty heroism which showed tliat he 
■was ready to sacrifice himself if need be, in any way, for the good of his 
c»untry, even by an ignominious death. Words embodying more truly tho 
soul of patriotism were never expressed. 

Hale received instructions from Washington in person, upon the points 
on which he was to obtain information. The plan was for him to cross over 
tlie Sound and land on Long Island, of which the enemy had then full pos- 
session. Numerous difficulties were to be overcome at the very outset. 
The Sound was filled with British cruisers, while the adjacent shores were 
pcowred bv thuir foraging parties, so that he was liable to be apprehended at 
any moment. If he succeeded, great benefit was to accrue to his country ; 
if he failed, death on the gallows was to be his certain fate. He proceeded 
to Norwalk, a distance of fifty miles, and made arrangements there with 
Captain Pond to have him carried in his sloop across the Sound to the Long 
Island shore, some twenty miles distant. He assumed the disguise of a 
school-teacher, wearing on the occasion a suit of brown cloth and a broad- 
brimmed hat. At Norwalk, he dismissed his faithful friend Stephen Hemp- 
stead, and embarking on board the sloop was safely lauded on the oppo- 
site shore, at " The Cedars," near Huntington Bay. 

In this vicinity lived the Widow Chichester, called "Mother Chick" by 
the tories, who made her house a sort of roost during their predatory incur- 
sions. Quite a flock of them might usually have been seen hovering around 
in the vicinity eager to enjoy the bounty of loyal Mother Chick. Hale 
passed this tory haunt without difficulty, and proceeded toward tlie settle- 
ments. His first pause was at the house of William Johnson, whose hospi- 
tality and confidence he for a few hours enjoyed. 

His e.tact route from thence is not known. The difficulties he encoun- 
tered — the narrow escapes he ran — the strategems he practiced, we can only 
conjecture. We do know that he succeeded in reaching the British camp, 
and in accomplishing the main object of his mission, from the drawings dis- 
covered in his possession when taken by the enemy. Doubtless his peace- 
ful demeanor and unpretending attire as a village school-master, subjected 
him to the "jibes and jokes" of many a British red-coat, as. he made his 
way into their camps ; but it facilitated his means of acquiring information. 

In the course of his investigations, it is supposed, he entered the city of 
New York, then overrun with British soldiers, where he was every instant 
exposed to arrest, as indeed was every citizen who went abroad without a 
royal protection in his pocket. In such an event, he was very certain to 
have been confined in the old " Sugar House," from whose fearful gateway 
the "dead-cart" daily bore away its victims, who had died by starvation or 
poison at the hands of the infamous wretches in charge. 

After spending a week or more among the enemy, Hale had accomplished 
the main objects of his enterprise. He then retraced his steps the way he 
came, encountered the same difficulties in passing through a country in tho 
possession of the enemy, and arrived in safety at "The Cedars," where he 
had arranged to meet a boat which was to convey him back to the Connec- 
ticut shore. 



OF AMERICANS. oj 

It was early morning, and the buy doubtless presented to him a friendly 
appearance. He could plainly discern the shores of his native State, rising 
in beaut)- beyond the blue waters of the Sound. Ilis perils seemed ended, 
and his heart must have swelled with emotions of pleasure, as he thought 
that in a few hours more his feet would again press friendly soil, and he 
should be enabled to render a great service to his country. 

At length he saw, as ho supposed, his boat approaching. He hastened to 
the waters' edge to meet it and get on board. It neared the shore — and, ! 
how cold must have grown the blood around that gallant young heart, when, 
springing to their feet, he saw a dozen men with muskets cocked and aimed 
at his breast, and the summons to surrender fell upon his eai-s. The boat 
was a barge belonging to the Halifax, a British man-of-war anchored near 
hy, but concealed by the projection of Lloyd's Neck. 

His captors took him on board the Halifax, Captain Quarme. He was 
searched, and between the soles of his shoes were found drawings of mili- 
tary works, with descriptions in Latin. What had he, a plain school- 
master, to do with laborious profiles of intrenchments, forts, and batteries; 
and these the exact counterpart of those occupied by the royal army ? It 
was evident he was a spy ! As such Captain Quarme treated him, though 
with kindness, won by his noble bearing, and regretting, as he afterward 
said, "that so line a fellow had fallen into his power."' 

His subsequent history is soon told. He was conveyed to New York, 
which he reached on the same day that nearly one half of it had been laid 
in ruins by a dreadful conflagration. 

He was taken into the presence of the relentless Howe. The notes found 
in his possession, the drawings of the British works, and other information 
collected for the use of the American commander, were proofs conclusive 
of his guilt. Before his judge he practiced no duplicity, resorted to no sub- 
terfuge; his garb of a school-teacher made no screen be:iind which ho 
longer aimed to conceal himself from the British general. The case was 
soon made out and judgment rendered — such a one as might have been ex- 
pected — signed by Howe, in the name of his royal majesty, George III. 
He was condemned as a spy, and sentenced to bo hung the next morning at 
daybreak. 

He was then conducted to prison, to reflect during the remaining fev/ 
hours upon his melancholy doom. Young, full of life and hope, he was 
soon to be executed like a common felon, and sent into the presence of that 
God whose unsearchable riches ho had one day hoped to have proclaimed 
to his fellow-men. What memories must have crow'ded upon him during 
the short interval before his execution ! How through the dim past must 
his thoughts have rolled back along the vista of his brief life, oven to the 
scenes of his boyhood ! How the image of his dear mother must have 
presented itself to him, as he thought of the shock to her when she re- 
ceived the tidings, in her quiet New England home, that her son had been 
hung! Then too, the image of his beautiful betrothed would appear lov- 
ingly before him, to remind him of the pure young heart his fiUe would 
make desolate ! But the die was cast. To-morrow, at daybreak, he w.-is to 
be executed. Xo power could avert it. Yet ho was to perish in the service 
of his countrj', and he resolved to meet death as became a Christian jjatriot. 



22 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

Major (Junningliam, a brutal Irishman, whose infamous cruelties upon 
American prisoners wore so notorious, was then provost marshal of the city. 
He declared, with an oath, that the harshest treatment was too good for 
such " traitors to undergo." He even murdered the prisoners by poisoning 
their food, that he might appropriate their rations to his own benefit. Such 
^vas the vile wretch into whose custody Hale was given. 

Their first interview was ch.aractcristic. Hale requested writing materials, 
that he might write to his parents and friends. This was refused. He theu 
asked for the Bible, that he at least might have the benefit of religious con- 
solation. With an oath, this also was denied. A lieutenant of the royal 
army, then present, here interposed with entreaty, and his requests were 
finally complied with. There, on the verge of eternity, Hale for the hist 
time communed with his loved ones. It is thought he wrote three letters ; 
one to his parents, one to his brother, and the other to his betrothed. They 
were handed over to Cunningham for delivery. His eye ran eagerly over 
their contents, which so incensed him that he tore them to atoms, swearing. 
"that the rebels should never know the)/ had a man who could die loith such 
firmness 1" 

A few hours more, and the fatal morning dawned — a beautiful Sabbath 
morning, in early autumn, 177G. The gray tint that streaked the eastern 
sky told Hale his hour had come. On many just such mornings, he had 
looked out upon the scenery of his New England home, and felt a thrill of 
delight ; on many such had his father gathered the little flock around his 
hearth for family worship, to prepare them for that eternity upon whose 
awful threshold he now stood. It was his last morning. The sun would 
rise again, but its rays would fall upon his grave. 

The provost marshal ordered the march to the place of execution to com- 
mence. With his hands tied behind him ; — a convict's cap on his head ; — 
wrapped in the habiliments of the tomb ; — beside the cirt with his coffin ; — 
before and behind him, files of soldiers for his guard ; — close by, the mu- 
latto hangman of Cunningham, with rope and ladder; — and behind, Cun- 
ningham himself; — to the cadence of the "Dead March," Hale proceeded 
to the fatal spot. 

They reached the place just as the sun was rising. A large crowd had 
assembled to witness the death of the spy. The limb of a tree was used 
for the gallows. Hale manifested no fear as the rope was adjusted around 
his neck. Though he was cheered by no friendly voice, the fire of freedom 
animated his bosom with holy inspiration. He mounted firmly upon the 
ladder on that still Sabbath morning, and looked calmly over the large as- 
semblage. Nowhere did he meet a glance of recognition, but on all sides 
he saw sympathizing hearts. The men were sad, and here and there the 
tear rolled down the cheek, expressive of the keenest compassiou ; while 
the women, as they gazed upon the face of one so young and noble, gave 
vent to their overcharged feelings in sobs and Lamentations. 

The arrangements being completed, Cunningham, in coarsest tones of 
fiend-like triumph, demanded of "the rebel" his "dying .speech and con- 
fession ;" — evidently in the hope that the young man would make some 
remark that he would be able to turn into ridicule fur the amusement of the 
depraved among the by-standers. Bitter, however, was his disappointment. 



OF AMKiaCAXS. 23 

At the thought of instiiut death, the face of lliilo lit up with an uxpression 
of holy patriotism, and, iu a clear, manly voice, he spake these heroic 
words : — 

"MY ONLY REGKKT IS, THAT 1 HAVK BUT 0.\E LIFE TO LOSE FOR 
MY COUNTRY!" 

Stung by this unexpected speech, the enraged Cunningham exclaimed : 
" Sicing the rebel nj) — Swing the rebel up!" — and, in a moment more, the 
spirit of Nathan llale had passed from earth. 

The ciroumstauccs of this tragedy were officially conveyed to the Ameri- 
can head-quarters by Colonel Mantaznar, of the British army, and as much 
publicity as possible given to it by the royal ofBcers, so as to intimidate such 
hardy spirits in the future. The address with which Hale penetrated their 
garrisons and camps, and the heroic manner in which he met his fate, in- 
spired the enemy with admiration, and made thenl feel that the subjugation 
of an army of such men was not an easy task. Even the brutal Cunning- 
ham, in his drunken bestiality, when with his boon companions, alluded to 
his conduct on the gallows in warm terms of commendation. 

Among those present at the execution, was Tunis Bogart, an honest 
farmer of Long Island, who had been impressed as a wagoner in the British 
service. In 1784, on being asked to witness a public execution, then about 
to take place, this man replied, " Xo ! I have seen one man hung as a spy," 
alluding to Hale, "and that was enough for me. I have never been able to 
efface the scene of horror from my mind — it rises up to my imagination 
always. That old devil-catcher, Cunningham, was so brutal, and hung him 
up as a butcher would a calf! The women sobbed aloud, and Cunningham 
swore at them for it, and told them they likely enough themselves would 
come to the same fate." 

Washington knew Hale well, and when ho responded to the appeal of 
Knowlton, he expressed a regret that it had not fallen to the lot of one less 
gifted. His death deeply pained him, and he felt that an irreparable loss 
had been sustained. Nor to him alone were l;hese feelings confined. Hale 
was well known in the army — a brother among the officers, beloved by all. 
A thrill of anguish went through the lines as his fate was told, and every 
brow was sad. But what must have been the agony produced in that homo 
circle, where he was an object of so much affection ! In the simple words 
of one who knew them well, "It almost killed his parents." Though they 
approved of the sijint which induced their son to enter the army, they 
looked forward, with hopeful pride, to the time when the banner of liberty 
would be triumphant, and he would enlist under that of the Cross. But 
the blow had fallen. Nathan was dead ! — and such a death ! — tlie death oj 
a spy ! The betrothed of Hale, Miss Hannah Adams, remarkable for her 
beauty and accomplishments, lived to old age, and died exclaiming, " Write 
to Nathan !" Thus his youthful imago was blended with her latest recol- 
lections. 

Nor, in this connection, must be forgotten Hale's faithful camp attendant, 
Asher Wright. He mourned his fate with more than a brother's sorrow. 
Although he lived seventy years after the s.id occurrence, ho never lost its 
vivid recollection, and wept as a very child whenever it was alluded to — 



24 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

having' become partially insane, in consequence of his continual brooding 
over the melancholy tragedy. 

A lofty monument of granite rises to the memory of Nathan Halt in the 
burial-place of his native town. There, among the graves of a simple- 
hearted rural people, overlooking a beautiful lake, stands this memorial of a 
young man, whose short life of twenty-one years ended in so much of sor- 
Bow ; and who, dying the ignominious death of a spy, was rudely thrua: 
into an unknown and an unhonored grave ! 

The death of Andre and that of Hale have often been compared. Each 
was young, in the morning of life, full of hope, ardent, accomplished, and 
possessed of those qualities that won all hearts. Each died bravely, and 
each was executed as a spy; but there terminates all similitude between them. 
The first was treated by hit enemies with the greatest consideration and 
sympathy compatible w'ith his offense : the latter, with the greatest barbar- 
ity, denied even the consolation of the Bible, and then hung "as a butcher 
would hang a calf." Andre entered on his mission without the expectation, 
if arrested, of being treated as a spy : Hale entered on his mission under a 
full sense of his awful peril. At his place of execution, the thoughts of the 
Englishman were upon himself, for he wished them " to hear witness that he 
died like a brave man:" at his place of execution, the thoughts of the Amer- 
ican were upon his country, for which he "regretted he had onlij one life to 
lose!" The one showed the heroism of the chivalrous soldier, who shrank 
ordy at the disgraceful mode of his death : the other showed the heroism 
of the Christiau patriot, willing to die even an ignominious death for the 
good of his country. The name of Andre is known wherever the English 
language is spoken : but that of Ilale, the greater hero, is scarcely known 
even to his own countrymen ! 

This sketch is prefaced with lines written by one who knew Hale well, 
and loved him with ardent affection — the celebrated Dr. Dwight, President 
of Yale College. On the first page of our collection of poetry, at the latter 
part of this work, are " Lines on the Death of Hale," from the pen of 
Francis Miles Finch, a graduate of Yale. They form part of a poem de- 
livered by him before the Linonian Society of Yale, at its centennial 
anniversary, A. D. 1853. Nathan Hale, when a student, was a mem- 
ber of this I'.ociety ; and among the eminent names found on its rolls, there 
is none, in all coming time, that will probably be more revered than that of 
the young " Hero Martyr of the American Revolution," 



THE ACHIEVEMENTS 



OF SOM E OF THE 



EARLY AMERICAN AE J ISTS, 

W E S T — S T U A K T — T R U M B U L L . 



We outline three incidents as an introduction to tliis aniclc. The first 
occurred in a Western State, on an autumnal evening. A gentleman, having 
finished his office labors for the day, strolled into the garden with his 
young wife, when her attention Avas attracted by a huge mass of clouds, 
lit up by the last rays of the sun, in hues of crimson and gold ; save in one 
spot, whore an opening in the parted rifts caught the eye, and led the vision 
to such an apparently immense distance beyond, that it seemed like a 
glance into eternity. 

" Look ! pray do look at that sky ! " exclaimed the admiring lady to her 
companion, who happened that moment to be in a bent attitude, his tall 
form arrayed in gown and slippers, and his fingers busy poking in tho 
ground. "Pooh ! pooh ! never mind the sky," he replied, "here, just look 
at my roota-bagfis ; I shall get at least twenty bushels out of this patch !" 

The scene changes ; and to the heart of New England, in tho first days 
of Juno. " Nature uncorks her champaign only twice a day," says a popu- 
lar writer, "morning and evening." It was early morning and the cork 
had "pop't." A young mau was sitting in the door of a quaint old farm- 
house, looking upon the valley of tho smooth gliding Connecticut. Th-o 
shadows were long upon the landscape, then in tho freshness of the new- 
bora spring. The foreground was occupied by a massive group of ancient 
trees, laughing in their green old age, in robes of luxuriant foliage ; while 
beyond, the grass-covered fields sloped away in picturesque curves down 
to the margin of the river, which lay bright and sparkling in its winding 
course. On the opposite side of the valley, arose the fine liilla of old 
Hampshire, herein light and tliere in shadow, at the caprice of a bank of 
white, woolly clouds, that, flo.atiiig grandly in tho heavens, seemed soft and 
inviting to the nap of a summer's afternoon. 

As the eye of the young man took in the glories of the ))anorama, valley, 
river, mountain, and sky, a sensation of pleasure stole over him ; the first oi 
the kind — for so he told us — he had ever experienced ; it was tlic cmolion 
created by the beautiful in Nature. 

Tho opening incident was in the history of a lawyer, and a graduate of 
Harvard ; this, in that of a clergyman, and a graduate of Yale ; both im- 
press us as to the osthetical culture of those renowned American uni- 
versities. 

f25l 



26 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEllENTS 

" I care nothing for pictures," said a farmer to a young man who was endea- 
voring to entice him into the purchase of a book, "illustrated by many pic- 
tures," "jiointing morals and adorning tales." He spake the truth, for as 
lie said so, his nostrils sniveled in a sneer, and his head jerked in a dis- 
dainful toss. He despised them as puerile ; yet, as he had never wandered far 
beyond the sight of his chimuoy smoke, his brain held many good ideas 
solely derived from pictures ; including the idea of the great wall in China, 
that in his boyhood he had from his school geography, to the idea of a 
newly invented plow he had seen in his newspaper, and that was then 
doing good service for him in his manly occupation as a tiller of the soil. 

These incidents are true ; and yet, among persons of equal intelligence, 
unlikely to occur in any country save our own. Americans have less fond- 
ness for the beautiful in Nature, and less appreciation of the excellent in 
Art, than any other civilized people. In the summer, when Young America 
takes his holiday, he will be found in the finest apparel, his feet pinched in 
patent leather, lounging under some piazza at a crowded watering-place ; 
or if he does ruralize, it is in the utter forgetfulness of legs ; for he is whirl- 
ing, in a slender cariole, over a straight hard road, amid clouds of dust, and 
behind a 2:40 nag, out of whom he is straining to get his mile within 2:39. 

At the same time, in England, multitudes will be seen, all over the coun- 
try, from the nobleman to the shop-keeper's clerk on his vacation, dressed 
in coarse checked suits and stout shoes, with their knapsacks, traveling on 
foot, and carrying opera-glasses ; seeking out fine points of view, from 
whence to enjoy the ever-varying, never-repeating combinations of scenery, 
CTeated expressly for our gratification, bj' a common Father. On the con- 
tinent, poverty may deny to the humble peasant the many comforts we 
possess, but it cannot deprive him of the visible glories of Nature, or of the 
great in Art, that he sees in the cathedral where he worships, and in the 
galleries around him, free and open to all. He thus becomes familiar with 
the names of artists ; ho is taught by their representations, and as he looks 
at Art, he is educated to look at Nature and then again at Art, until by re- 
ciprocation, from one to the other, a new sense is developed, and ho grows 
appreciative alike in the works of God and in those of man. 

The life of the American has been hard and dry. He commenced in 
poverty, and what with the felling of the forest, and the elbowing away of 
the Indian to give him room, he has thought of little else. He has not 
tarried to take a lesson of patience from his os, that calmly chewed the 
cud under the yoke ; nor one of enjoyment from the little robin, that cheerily 
bang all the day long in the tree near where he labored. Ever hurrying on, 
restless and nervous, applying to work with a never before known intensity, 
he brings up at length at the end of bio days, without scarcely a single 
pause by the way, to inquire for what he has lived. He "has eyes, but he 
sees not;" he "has cars, but hears not;" seeing nothing nor hearing 
nothing, but bending all his energies, body and soul, to the one great end — 
" the main chance." 

This is wrong. "Man was not made to live b}' bread alone." Those 
finer faculties, our tastes, the love of Nature, Art, Poetry, and jtf usic, were 
given to bo cultivated, and the pauses to administer to them, are the rest- 
ing-places in this not altngclhcr work-day- world. 



OF AMERICANS. 27 

Art is so little appreciated among us, that scaroi-h- a name of a suctcssfiil 
American artist has impressed tlio American people at large, save perhaps 
one, a sculptor, and he only because he is said to have excelled all I'juropean 
ootemporaries in the carving of a nude female figure. A change is to ensue, 
The flush of a new dawn is shooting upward. And we trnst the day will 
soon arrive, wdien the walls of even the cottages of the land will generally 
be attractive, from pleasant pictures of landscapes, of instructive scenes in 
history, and heart-improving delineations of domestic life. 

America has produced some artists of note ; euouL;li to show that this 
kind of talent, when required among us, will be fortlicoming, and in no 
stinted measure. Possibly, at this moment, somewhere in the dark pine for- 
ests of Minnesota, or by the shores of the rolling Atlantic, or on the sunny 
slopes of the Alleghanies, is a white-headed, hatless, and bare-footed lit- 
tle urchin, playing in the sand before the door of a rude cabin, who is 
marked for a great career in Art ; to bless the future of our people by a 
matchless genius in illustrating the heroic in American annals, or by touch- 
ing pictures of American life, that shall sweetly influence to a more vivid 
(ippreciation and love of home. 

So little at an early day was Art cultivated in our country, that our men 
of genius in this line were obliged to seek out a field for their efforts mainly 
in Europe. Wo introduce the histories of a few of these. 

BENJAMIN ■WEST. 

Something more than a century since, the screams of a cat in sore distress 
issued from the farm-house of a Quaker, in Springfield, Chester county, Penn- 
sylvania ; and she had cause, for little "Benny" West held her in his grip, 
and was pulling out her fur by the roots, to make his paint brushes from ; 
genius was working in him, and poor puss had to suffer. AVhen her hair 
was drawn through a goose quill, it answered his purpose very well. His 
resources for paints were the wandering. Indians, who supplied him with 
the red and yellow earths with which the)' daubed tlieir slcins, and his 
mother's indigo pot, from which he got his blue color. 

He earl}' showe<l a fondness for Art. In 1745, when he was but seven 
ye-ars old, he was placed with a fly-brush to watch the sleeping infant of 
his eldest sister. As he sat there the child smiled in sleep. Struck by its 
beauty he attempted to draw its portrait in red and black ink. His sober 
parents encouraged this new taste, and in a little while, the quiet Quaker 
home was filled with his pictorial efforts. 

A Mr. Pennington, a merchant of Philadelphia, made a visit to Chester 
county, where he saw some of these sketches of the boy-artist, and when 
he returned home he sent him a present worth more to him than a king- 
dom — "a box of paints and brushes, and several pieces of canvas prepared, 
and six engravings by Groveling." These were the first works or imple- 
ments of Art the boy had ever seen. " West placed the box on a chair by 
his bedside, and he was unable to sleep. He rose with the dawn, carried 
his canvas and colors to the garret, hung up the engravings, prepared a 
palette, and commenced copying. So completely was he under the control 



28 ADVENTUUKS AND ACllIEVEiMEXTS 

of this species of oncluuilmoiit, tliat lio absented lii[nself from school, 
labored secretly and incessantly for several days, when the anxions inqui- 
ries of the schoolmaster introduced his mother to his studio with no ploasura 
in her looks, but her anger vanished as slio looked upon his performance. 
He had avoided copyism, and made a picture composed from two of the en- 
gravings, telling a new story, and colored with a skill and oll'ect that was in 
her sight surprising. " She kissed him," says Gait, who had the story 
fi'om the artist, " with transports of aQ'ection, and assured him that she 
would not only intercede wdth his father to pardon him for having absented 
himself from school, but would go herself to the master and beg that ho 
might not be punished." 

When West was nine years of age, Pennington took him to riiiladelphia, 
and introihiccd him to ^^'illiams, a portrait painter, who was so much de- 
lighted with a landscape that ho had painted, that lie warmly cncom-aged 
him to prosecute his studies. He gave him a couple of books, and an iu- 
vitatioii to call whenever he pleased and see his pictures. 

The books and the pictures made the love of Art overcome all other 
feelings, and he returned homo resolved to become a painter. Williams' 
pictures, which were "the first specimens of true Art the boy had seen, 
affected West so much that ho bur.st into tears." 

A story well authenticated is told by all his biographers, which goes to 
show that Benjamin was quite an ambitious little fellow for a Quaker. 
"One of bis school-follows allured him on a half-holiday from trap and 
ball, by promising him a ride to a neighboring plantation. 'Here is the 
horse, bridled and saddled,' said his friend, 'so come, get up behind me.' 
'Behind you,' said Benjamin; 'I will ride behind nobody.' 'Oh! very 
well,' replied the other, 'I will ride behind you; so mount.' Ho mounted 
accordingly and away they rode. ' This is the last ride I shall have,' said 
liis companion, ' for some time. To-morrow I am to be appenlieed to a 
tailor.' 'A tailor!' exclaimed West; 'you will surely never bo a tailor.' 
'Indeed, but I shall,' replied the other; 'it is a good trade. AVhat do you 
intend to bo, Benjamin?' 'A painter.' 'A painter! What sort of a trade 
is a painter? I never heard of it before.' 'A painter,' said this humble sou 
of a Ponn.-iylvania Quaker, ' is the companion of kings and emperors.' ' You 
are surely mad,' said the embryo tailor, 'there .are neither kings nor emperors 
in America.' 'Aye, but there are plenty in other parts of the world. And 
do you really intend to bo a tailor?' ' Indeed I do— nothing surer.' ' Then 
you nuvy ride alone,' said tho future companion of kings and emperors, 
leaping down ; 'I will not ride with one willing to be a tailor !'" 

A gentleman by tho name of Flower, who lived in a neighboring town, 
saw some of West's first pictures, ami was so well pleased with the boy 
that he invited him to visit his house. There he mot a young Eng- 
lish lady, who was governess to his daughter. She was well acquainted 
with Art, and also intimate with Greek and Latin Poets, and loved to point 
out to the young artist the most picturesque passages. He had never before 
heard of Greece or of Kome, or of the heroes, philosophers, poets, paintoi-s, 
and historians, whom they had produced, and he listened while the lady 
spoke of them, with an enthusiasm which, after an experience of nearly 
seventy years in the world ho loved to live over again. 



OF AMERICANS. 29 

His fame spread to Lancaslcr, wheie ho was soon employed to paint por- 
traits. A Lancaster guiisniith, Mr. Joseph Henry, commissioned hira to 
paint the Death of Socrates. The artist linew none too much about the 
personage he was going to paint, and the gmismitli read to him a few pas- 
sages which spoke about hemloclv and the pliilosojjher. Once possessed of 
the idea, he began to work it out on canvas. The gunsmith gave him one 
of his men to stand for a model, and in due time this fust historical picture 
of Benjamin West was finished. 

When West was fifteen years of age. Dr. Smith, Provost of tho College 
of Philadelphiai'proposed to his father to send his son to tliat city where ho 
kindly offered to direct his studies. But before this Qualccr father gave up 
his boy to the "worldly occupation of painting," ho felt it to bo his duty 
to lay the matter before the society of wliicli ho w;us a member. The soci- 
ety assembled and waited for the moving of tho spirit. It was a serious 
question with those serious men and women, whether they could give 
their consent that one of their own members should wander from the fold, 
to pursue an art which "had hitherto been employed to embellish life, to 
preserve voluptuous images, and add to the sensual gratifications of man." 

"The spirit of speech first descended on one John Williamson — 'To 
John West and Sarah Persons,' said this Western Luminary, 'a man-child 
hath been born, ou whom God hath conferred some remarkable gifts of 
mind and you have all heard that, by something amounting to inspiration, 
the youth has been induced to study the Art of Painting. It is true that 
our tenets refuse to own the utility of that art to mankind ; but it seemeth 
to me that we have considered tho matter too nicely. God has bestowed 
on this youth a genius for Art — shall we question His wi.sdom? Can wo 
believe that He gives such rare gifts but for a wise and good purpose? I see 
the Divino hand in this ; we shall do well to sanction the art and encour.ago 
this youth.' " 

The assembly seems to have felt the force of these word.s, and the young 
painter was called in. Ho entered and took his station in the middle of the 
room, his father on his right hand and his mother on tho left, surrounded 
by a company of simple-hearted worshipers. A female spoke — for in tho 
Societv of Friends the pride of man has fastened no badge of servitude 
upon woman. There seemed to be but one opinion. If painting had been 
employed hitherto only "to preserve voluptuous images, in wise and pure 
hands it may rise in the scale of moral excellence, and display a loftiness 
of sentiment, and a devout dignity worthy of tho contemplation of Christians. 
Genius is given by God for some high purjiose — what that purpose is lot us 
not inquire — it will be manifest in His own good time and way. lie hath 
in this rimote wilderness endowed with the rich gifts of a superior spirit 
this youth, who has now our consent to cultivate his talents for Art. May 
it be demonstrated in his life and works, that the gifts of God have not been 
bestowed in vain nor the motives of the beneficent inspiration, which induces 
us to suspend the strict operation of our tenets, prove barren of religious and 
moral effect." "At tho conclusion of this .address, tho women ruse and kissed 
the young artist and the men one by one laid their liands on his head." 

West pursued his studies at Philadelphia with an untiring devotion until 
summoned to the bedside of his dying mother. Ho arrived just in timo 



30 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

:o receive the welcome of her eyes, ;ind her mute blessing. His affection 
and veneration for his mother was undying. When he was old and gray, 
he recalled her looks and dwelt on her expressions of fondness and of hope. 
with a sadness which he neither wished to subdue nor conceal. While the 
companion of princes and noblemen, he used to go from scenes of splendor 
and gayety, and around his fireside talk to some kind friend about his 
mother. 

The tie that hold him to home was now broken, and he left it to go out 
into the great world, to win fame and court fortune among strangers. Ue 
was eighteen years of age when he returned to Philadelphia to establish 
himself as a portrait painter. His merit was great and he had abundant 
employment ; first in that city, and then in New York, ^vhere he remained 
nearly a year. 

His e.\treme youth, the peculiar circumstances of his history, and his un- 
doubted merit brought him many sitters. Young as he was, he had the 
sagacity to see that travel influenced the public opinion, and that study, 
and long study, was necessary for him if he really wished to excel. He 
knew that the master-works of art were in other lands, and on Korae es- 
pecially he had already set his heart. 

The Italian harvest having failed, a consignment of wheat and flour 
was sent from Philadelphia to Italy, and put under the charge of one of the 
Allen?, who offered West a passage to Leghorn. It happened that a New 
York merchant, of the name of Kelly, was .at that time sitting to West for 
his portrait, and to this gentleman the artist spoke of his intended journey, 
and represented how much he expected a year or two of study in Rome 
would improve his skill and taste. Kelly paid him for his portrait, gave 
him a letter to his agents in Philadelphia, shook him by the hand, and 
wished him a good voyage. Ere he reached his native place, after an ab- 
sence of eleven mouths, all the arrangements for his dep.arture had been 
completed by Smith ; and when ho presented the letter of Kelly, he found 
that it contained an order from that generous merchant to his agent to pay 
him fifty guineas — "a present to aid in his equipment for Italy." Thus all 
things seemed to conspire for the furtherance of the youtli's advancement 
in the road to wealth and honor, for he found friends eager to assist him 
at every step. 

West, like most men of any imagination who visit Rome, was always 
fond of describing his first impressions. He had walked on while his trav- 
eling companion was baiting the horses, and had reached a rising ground, 
which offered him a view far and wide. The sun was newly risen, all was 
calm and clear, and he saw before him a spacious champaign bounded by 
green hills, and in the midst a wilderness of noble ruins, over which tow- 
ered the nobler dome of St. Peters. A broken column at his feet, which 
served as a mile-stone, informed him that he was within eight thousand 
paces of the ancient mistress of the world, and a sluggish boor, clad in 
rough goat-skins, driving his flocks to pasture amid the ruins of a temple, 
told him how far she had fallen. In the midst of a revery, in which he 
was comparing the treacherous peasants of the Campagna with the painted 
barbarians of North America, he entered Rome. This was on the 10th ol 
July, 1760, and in the twenty-second year of his age. 



OF AMEKICANS. 31 

When it was known that a young American had come to Eomo to study 
Raphael and Michael Angelo, some curiosity was excited among the Iloman 
virtuosi. 

Many seemed to consider the young American as at most a hettcr kind 
of savage ; and, accordingly, were curious to watch him. They wished 
to try what effect the Apollo, the Venus, and the works of Raphael would 
have upon him, and " thirty of the most magnificent equipages in the 
capital of Christendom, and filled with some of the most erudite characters 
in Europe," says Gait, "conducted the young Quaker to view the master- 
pieces of Art. It was agreed that the Apollo should first be submitted to 
his view ; the statute was inclosed in a case, and when the keeper threw 
open the doors, AVest unconsciously exclaimed, "My God — a young Mo- 
hawk warrior ! " The Italians wore surprised and mortified with the com- 
parison of their noblest statute to a wild savage ; and West, perceiving the 
uufavorable impression, proceeded to remove it. He described the Mo- 
hawks — the natural elegance and admirable symmetry of their persons — the 
elasticity of their limbs, and their motions free and unconstrained. " I have 
seen them often," he continued, "standing in the very attitude of this 
Apollo, and pursuing vnth. an intense eye the arrow which they had just 
discharged from the bow." The Italians cleared their moody brows, and 
allowed that a better criticism had rarely been pronounced. West was no 
longer a barbarian. 

Of his claim to mix with men of genius, however, he had as yet sub- 
mitted no proof; he had indeed shown his drawings to Meugs and to 
Hamilton, but they were, as he confessed, destitute of original merit ; nor, 
indeed, could they be commended for either neatness or accuracy. He 
waited on Lord Grantham — "I cannot," said he, "produce a finished sketch, 
like the other students, because I have never been instructed in drawing ; 
but I can paint a little, and if you will do me the honor to sit for your por- 
trait, that I may show it to Mengs, you will do mo a great kindness." His 
lordship consented ; the portrait was painted ; and, the name of the artist 
being kept secret, the picture was placed in the gallery of Crespigni, 
where amateurs and artists were invited to see it. It was known that 
Lord Grantham was sitting to Mengs, and to him .some ascribed the portrait, 
though they thought the coloring surpassed his other compositions. Dance, 
an Englishman of sense and acutene.ss, looked at it closely; "the coloring 
surpasses that of Mengs," he observed, "but the drawing is neither so fine 
nor so good." The company engaged eagerly in the discussion ; Crespigni 
seized the proper moment, and said, "It is not painted by Mciigs." "By 
whom then?" they exclaimed, "for there is no other painter in Home capa- 
ble of doing anything so good." " By that young "entleman," said iho 
otlier, turning to West, who sat uneasy and agitated. The English held 
out their hands ; the Italians ran and embraced him. 

Mengs himself soon arrived ; ho looked at the picture, and spoke with 
great kindness. " Young man, you have no occasion to come to Rome to 
iearn to paint." 

One day West was conversing in the British Coffee-IIouse, when an old 
man with a guitar suspended from his shoulders, offered his services as an 
improvisator bard. " Here is an American," said the companion of West, 



32 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

"come to stuil}- the Fine Arts in Rome ; take him for your theme, and it is 
a magnificent one." The old man burst into a song. " I behold," he sung, 
" in this youth an instrument chosen by Heaven to create in his native 
country a taste for those Arts which have elevated the nature of man — an 
assurance that his land will he the refuge of science and knowledge, when 
in the old age of Europe, they shall have forsaken her shores. All things 
of heavenly origin move westward, and Truth and Art have their periods 
of light and darkness. Rejoice, Rome, for thy spirit immortal and unde- 
cayed, uou' spreads toward a new world, where, like the soul of man in Par- 
adise, it will be perfected more and more." 

West visited Florence, Bologna, and Venice, carefully studying all the 
works of the great masters those beautiful cities contain. At Parma he 
was elected a Member of the Academy — he jiainted for the Academy a 
copy of the St. Jerome of Corregio, "of such excellence, that the reigning 
prince desired to see the artist. He went to court, and, to the utter confu- 
sion of the attendants, appeared with his hat on. The prince was a lover 
of William Penn, and received the young artist with complacency, and 
dismissed him with many expressions of regard. During his visits to 
Florence and Bologna he had also received the honors of their Academies. 

When he returned to Rome, he painted a picture of "Ciraon and Iphige- 
nia," and another of "Angelica and Medora." These works established his 
reputation in Italy. He had no rival in Italy but Mengs and Pornpeo Bat- 
toni, and he soon left those painters for behind him. After four years of 
study and triumph in that unfortunate but beautiful land, he turned his 
face toward the Alps, with a determination to visit England and then return 
to his native country — but he little knew how brilliant a career he was to 
run. 

He arrived in London, June 20, 17G3, and at a most auspicious period, 
for there was hardly an historical painter of genius then engaged in his Art 
in Great Britain. But before he could succeed he had to create a new taste. 
Such was the prejudice against everything modern, that no Englishman 
would have dared to have hung up any modern picture in his house, unless 
it was a portrait. 

A successful beginning, and the promise of full employment induced 
him to resolve on remaining in the Old Country. But he was attached to a 
young lady in his native land — absence had augmented his regard, and he 
wished to return to Philadelphia, marry her, and bring her to England. 
He disclosed the state of his affections to his friends, who took a less ro- 
mantic view of the matter, advised the artist to stick to his easel, and 
arranged the whole so prudently, that the lady came to London accompanied 
by a relation whose time was not so valuable as West's, and they were mar- 
ried. 

Dr. Drammond, the Archbishop of York, a dignified and liberal prelate, 
aiid an admirer of painting, invited West to his table, conversed with him 
on the influence of Art, and on the honor which the patronage of genius 
reflected on the rich, and opening Tacitus, pointed out that fine passage 
where Agrippina lands with the ashes of Gcrmanicus. lie caused his son 
to read it again and again, commented upon it with taste and feeling, and 
requested West to make him a painting of that subject. 



OF AMEUICANS. 33 

When the work was being proceeded with, the arclibishop songht and ob- 
tained an audience of his majesty, then young and unacquainted with cares 
— informed him that a devout American and Quaker had painted, at his re- 
quest, such a noble picture tliat he was desirous to secure his talents for the 
throne and the country. The king was much interested with the story, and 
said, "Let me see this young painter of yours with his Agrippina as soon as 
you please." 

A gentleman was sent from the palace to request West's attendance with 
the picture of Agrippina. "His majesty," said the messenger, "is a young 
man of great simplicity and candor ; sedate in his affections, scrupulous in 
forming private friendships, good from principle, and pure from a sense of 
the beauty of virtue. Forty years' intercourse, we might almost say friend- 
ship, confirmed to the painter the accuracy of these words. 

The king received AVest with easy frankness, assisted him to place the 
Agrippina in a favorable light, removed the attendants, and brought in the 
queen, to whom he presented our Quaker. He related to her majesty the 
history of the picture, and bade her notice the simplicity of the design and 
the beauty of the coloring. " There is another noble Roman subject," ob- 
served his majesty, " the departure of Ecgulus from Rome — would it not 
make a fine picture? " " It is a magnificent subject," said the painter. 
"Then," said the king, "you shall paint it forme." He turned with a 
smile to the queen, and said, " The archbishop made one of his sons read 
Tacitus to Mr. West, but I will read Livy to him myself — that part where 
he describes the departure of Eegulus." So saying, he read the passage 
verj' gracefully, and then repeated his command that the picture should be 
painted. 

West was too prudent not to wish to retain the sovereign's good opinion — 
and his modesty and his merit deserved it. The palace doors now seemed 
to open of their own accord, and the domestics attended with an obedient 
start to the wishes of him whom the king delighted to honor. There are 
minor matters which sometimes help a man on to f.ame ; and in these too 
he had his share. West was a skillful skater, and in America had formed 
an acquaintance on the ice with Colonel, afterward too well known in the 
colonial war as General, Howe ; this friendship had dissolved with the 
thaw, and was forgotten, till one day the painter, having tied on his skates 
at the Serpentine, was astonishing the timid practitioners of London by the 
rapidity of his motions, and the graceful figure which he cut. Some one 
cried, "West! West!" it was Colonel Howe. "I am glad to see you," 
said he, "and not the less so that you come in good time to vindicate my 
praises of American skating." He c.iUed to him Lord Spencer Hamilton 
and some of the Cavendishes, to whom he introduced West as one of the 
Philadelphia prodigies, and requested him to show them what was cilled 
'•The Salute." He performed this feat so much to their satisfaction, that 
they went away spreading the praises of the American skater over London. 
Nor was the considerate Quaker insensible to the value of such commendii- 
tions; he continued to frequent the Serpentine, and to gratify large crowds 
by cutting the Philadelphia Salute. Many to their praise of his skating 
added panegyrics on his professional skill, and not a few, to vindicate their 
applause, fo'lowed him to his easol, and sat for their portraits. 



34 ADVENTURES A^'D ACHIEVEMENTS 

While West was painting the Departure of Eegulus, tlie present Royal 
Academy was planned, and in its first exhibition appeared the Regulns. A 
change was now to be eCfected in the character of British Art ; hitherto 
historical painting had appeared in a masking habit; the actions of English- 
men seemed all to have been performed, if costume were to be believed, by 
Greeks or by Romans! West dismissed at once this pedantry, and restored 
nature and propriety in his noble work of "The Death of Wolfe." The 
multitude acknowledged its excellence at once. The lovers of old art, the 
manufacturers of compositions called by courtesy classical, complained of 
the barbarism of Iwots, and buttons, and blunderbusses, and cried out for 
naked warriors, with bows, bucklers, and battering-rams. • Lord Grovenor, 
disregarding the frowns of the amateurs, and the, at best, cold approbation 
of the Academy, purchased this work, which, in spite of laced coats and 
cooked hats, is one of the best of our historical pictures. The Indian war- 
rior watching the dying hero, to see if he equaled in fortitude the children 
of the deserts, is a fine stroke of nature and poetry. 

AVest had now obtained the personal confidence of the king, and the 
favor of the public. His majesty employed him to paint a series of his- 
torical pictures for the palace, and when the king grow weary of these sub- 
jects, he took new ground and appealed to the religious feelings of tlie 
royal patron. 

He suggested to the king a series of pictures on the Progress of Revealed 
Religion. He selected eighteen subjects from the Old, and eighteen from 
the New Testament. They were all sketched, and twenty-eight executed, 
for which in all West received upward of twenty-one thousand pounds. 
A work so varied, and so noble in its nature, was never before undertaken 
by any painter. 

When the war broke out between England and her colonies, the feelings 
of AVest were sorely tried. His early friends and present patrons were in- 
volved in the bloody controversy. He was too much in the palace and 
alone with his majesty, to avoid some allusion to the strife. It is to the 
credit of that monarch that he never allowed the political opinions of West 
to interfere with his admiration of him as an artist, or his friendship for him 
as a man. 

Professor Morse relates an interesting anecdote about West and George 
III. The professor found West copying a portrait of the king. " This pic- 
ture," said the old painter, " is remarkable for one circumstance : the king 
was sitting to me for it when a messenger brought him the 'Declaration of 
Independence.' " It may bo supposed that the question, " How did he re- 
ceive the news?" was asked. " He was agitated at first," said West ; "then 
sat silent and thoughtful. At length, he said, ' Well, if they cannot bo 
happy under my government, I hope they may not change it for a worse. 
I wish them no ill.'" If such was George III, wo find no difficulty in re- 
conciling his attachment to Benjamin West, with the American's honest 
love of his native land. 

When Sir Joshua Reynolds died, the choice of the Royal Academy fell 
on West, and he was elected president with the "ready assent of the king." 
I'.ritish writers seem to have bad but one opinion on the propriety of this 
choice.— there was no man in Great Britain whose title to the honor w^is so 



OF AMERICANS. 35 

clear. Tliu king offered him on this occasion the honor of IcnighthooJ. 
Every American will rejoice that he rejected the nick-name. It had been 
the custom to confer this honor on the most distinguished painter in Eng- 
land. West was the only man who declined the title. Englishmen still 
call this American "Sir Benjamin." Well, as long as they do not know- 
how such a " nick-name " belittles a man like West, we must overlook it. 

The now president delivered many discourses, all more or less distin- 
guished for plain practical sense. He pressed upon the students the value 
of knowledge and the necessity of study, and the uselessncss of both with- 
out a corresponding aptitude of mind and buoyancy of imagination — in 
other words, genius. He advised them to give heart and soul wholly to art, 
to turn aside neither to the right nor to the left, but consider that hour lost 
in which a line had not been drawn, nor a masterpiece studied. "Observe," 
he said, " with the same contemplative eye, the landscape, the appearance 
of trees, figures dispersed around, and their aerial distance as well as lineal 
forms. Omit not to observe the light and shade in consequence of the sun's 
rays being intercepted by clouds or other accidents. Let your mind be 
familiar with the characteristics of the ocean ; mark its calm dignity when 
undisturbed by the winds, and all its various states between that and its 
terrible sublimity when agitated by the tempest. Sketch with attention its 
foaming and winding coasts, and that awful line which separates it from the 
heavens. Eeplenished with these stores, your imagination will then come 
forth, as a river collected from little springs spreads into might and majesty. 
If you aspire to excellence in your profession, you must, like the industrious 
bee, survey the whole face of nature and sip the sweet from every flower. 
When thus enriched, lay up your acquisitions for future use, and examine 
the great works of art to animate your feelings and to excite your emula- 
tion. When you are thus mentally enriched, and your hand practiced to 
.obey the powers of your will, you will then find your pencils or your 
chisels as magic wands, calling into view creations of your own, to adorn 
your name and country." 

So regular were West's hours of labor, and so carefully did he calculate 
his time, that to describe one day of his life is to describe years. Ho rose 
early — studied before breakfast — began to work on one of his largo pictures 
about ten — painted with little intermission till four — washed, dressed, saw 
visitors, and having dined, recommenced his studies anew. His works were 
chiefly historical ; he dealt with the dead ; and the solitude of his gallery 
was seldom invaded by the rich .or the great clamoring for their portraits. 
Visitors sometimes found their way to his inner study while he had the 
pencil in his hand ; he had no wish to show off his skill to the idle, and 
generally sat as silent and motionless on such occasions as one of his own 
apostles. His words were few, his manner easy ; his Quaker-like sobriety 
seemed little elevated by intercourse with nobles and waiting gentlewomen. 
On the Windsor pictures he expended much study, and to render them 
worthy of- their place, he "trimmed," as he told the king, "his midnight 
lamp." So closely was he imprisoned by their composition, that his attend- 
ance at the burial of so eminent a brother artist as Gainsborough was men- 
tioned as something extraordinary. 

West lived to a great age. Elizabeth Shewell — for more than fifty years 
.1 



36 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

his kiml and tender companion — died on the 6th of December, 1817, and 
West, seventy-uine years ohl, felt that he was soon to follow. His wife 
ftnd he had loved each other some sixty years — had seen their children's 
children — and the world had no compensation to offer. He began to sink, 
and though still to be found at his easel, his hand had lost its early alacrity. 
It was evident that all this was to cease soon ; that he was sufi"ering a slow, 
and a general, and easy decay. The venerable old man sat in his study 
among his favorite pictures, a breathing image of piety and contentment, 
awaiting calmly the hour of his dissolution. Without any fixed complaint, 
his mental faculties unimpaired, his cheerfulness uneclipsed, and with looks 
serene and benevolent, he expired 11th March, 1820, in the eighty-second 
year of his age. He was buried beside Keynolds, Opie, and Barry, in St. 
Paul's Cathedral. The pall was borne by noblemen, ambassadors, and 
academicians ; his two sons and grandson were chief mourners ; and sixty 
coaches brought up the splendid procession. 

AVest was the pioneer and father of American artists. Cunningham in 
his lives of eminent artists, thus gives the character of West, and his judg- 
ment upon his merits as a painter. How true or just this criticism, it is be- 
yond onr knowledge or province to decide ; but the late Sir Martin Archer 
Shee, President of the Royal Academy of England, certainly a competent 
judge, said of him, that in his departments — historical painting^he was 
"the most distinguished artist of the age in which he lived." Sir Thomas 
Lawrence also gave commendations equally strong. Says Cunningham : 

"Benjamin West was in person above the middle size, of a fair complex- 
ion, and firmly and compactly built. His serene brow betokened command 
of temper, while his eyes, sparkling and vivacious, promised lively remarks 
and pointed sayings, in which he by no means abounded. Intercoiu-se with 
courts and with the world, which changes so many, made no change in 
his sedate sobriety of sentiment and happy propriety of manner, tlie re- 
sults of a devout domestic education. His kindness to young artists was 
great — his liberality seriously impaired his income — he never seemed weary 
of giving advice — intrusion never disturbed his temper — nor could the 
tediousness of the dull ever render him either impatient or peevish. 
Whatever he knew in art he readily imparted — he was always happy to 
think that art was advancing, and no mean jealousy of other men's good 
fortune ever invaded his repose." 

"As his life was long and laborious, his productions are very numerous. 
He painted and sketched in oil, upward of four hundred pictures, mostly of 
an historical and religious nature, and he left more than two hundred original 
drawings in his portfolio. His works were supposed by himself, and for a 
time by others, to be in the true spirit of the great masters, and he com- 
jiosed them with the serious ambition and hope of illustrating Scripture, 
and rendering Gospel truth more impressive. No subject seemed to him 
too lofty for his pencil ; he considered himself worthy to follow the sub- 
limest ilights of the prophets, and dared to limn the effulgence of God's 
glory, and the terrors of the day of Judgment. The mere list of his works 
makes us shudder at human presumption — Moses receiving the Law on 
Sinai — the Descent of the Holy Ghost on the Saviour in the Jordan — the 
Opening of the Seventh Seal in the Revelations — Saint Michael and his 



OF AMEUIOAXS. 37 

Angels casting out tlie Great Dragon — the mighty Angel with one foot on 
Sea and the other on Earth — the Resurrection — and there are many otherc 
of the same class! With such magnificence and sublimity who but a 
Michael Angelo could cope? 

In all his works the human form was exhibited in conformity to academic 
precepts — his figures were arranged with skill — the coloring was varied and 
harmonious — the eye rested ple;ised on the performance, and the artist 
seemed, to the ordinary spectator, to have done his t;isk like one of the 
highest of the sons of genius. But below all this splendor, there was little 
of the true vitality — there was a monotony, too, of human character — the 
groupings were unlike the happy and careless combinations of nature, and 
the figures seemed distributed over the canvas by line and measure, like 
trees in a plantation, lie wanted fire and imagination, to be the restorer of 
that grand style, which bewildered Barry and was talked of by Reynolds. 
Most of his works — cold, formal, bloodless, and passionless — may remind 
the spectator of the sublime vision of the valley of dry bones, when the 
fiesh and skin had come upon the skeletons, and before the breath of God 
had infused them with life and feeling. 

Though such is the general impression which the works of West make, 
it cannot be denied that many are distinguished by great excellence. In his 
Death on the Pale Horse, and more particularlj- in his sketch of that pic- 
ture, he has more than approached the masters and princes of the calling. 
It is, indeed, irresistibly fearful to see the triumphant march of the terrific 
[jhantom, and the dissolution of all that earth is piroud of beneath his 
tread. War and peace, -sorrow and joy, youth and age, all who love and 
all who hate, seem planet-struck. The Death of Wolfe, too, is natural and 
noble, and the Indian chief, like the Oneida warrior of Campbell, 

"A stoic of the woods, a man witlioiit a tear," 

was a happy thought. The Battle of La Ilogue, I have heard praised as 
ilie beat historic picture of the British school, by one not likely to be mis- 
taken, and who would not say what ho did not feel. Many of his single 
figures, also, are of a high order. There is a natural grace in the looks of 
some of his women, which few painters have ever excelled. 

West was injured by early success ; he obtained his fame too easilj' — il 
was not purchased by long study and many trials — and he rashly imagined 
himself capable of anything. But the coldness of his imagination nipped 
the blossoms of history. It is the province of art to elevate the subject, 
in the spirit of its nature, and brooding over the whole, with the feeling of 
a poet, awaken the scene into vivid life, and heroic beauty; but such 
mastery rarely waited upon the ambition of this amiable and upright man." 

CilLnKRT CH.\RLES STUART. 

That most eminent of American portrait painters, the eccentric Gilbert 
CnARU:s Stuart, was once a.sked at an English inn, in " what part of Eng- 
land he was born?" "I was not bom in England, Scotland, Wales, or 
Ireland." "Where then?" "I wiis born at Narraganset." "Where's 
that?" "Six mflcs from I'ottawoone, and ten miles from Poppasquash, 
and about four miles west of Connonicut, and not for from the spot where 



38 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

the famous battle with the warlike Pequots was fought." "In what part 
of the East Indies is that, sir?" "East Indies, m}' dear sir! it is in tho 
State of Rhode Island, between Massachusetts and Connecticut river." This 
was all Greek to his companions, and he left them to study a new lesson in 
geography. 

An anecdote of Stuart is given, in which he pretends to describe the kind 
of building in which he was born. As it is related in his characteristic 
style as a story teller, we give it. 

A few )-ears before his death, two artists of Philadelphia visited Mr. 
Stuart, at his residence in Boston. These gentlemen, Messrs. Longacre and 
Neagle, had made tho journey for the sole purpose of seeing and deriving 
instruction from the veteran. While sitting with him on one occasion, Mr. 
Neagle asked him for a pinch of snuff from his ample box, out of which lie 
v/as profusely supplying his own nostrils. " I will give it to you," said Stuart, 
"but I advise you not to take it. Snuff-taking is a pernicious, vile, dirty 
habit, and, like all bad habits, to he carefully avoided." " Your practice 
contradicts your precept, Mr. Stuart." " Sir, I can't help it. Sliall I tell 
you a story? You were neither of you ever in England — so I must describe 
an English stage-coach of my time. It was a large vehicle of the coach 
kind, with a railing around the top to secure outside passengers, and a bas- 
ket behind for baggage, and such travelers as could not be elsewhere ac- 
commodated. In such a carriage, full within, loaded on top, and an addi- 
tional imfortimate stowed with the stuff in the basket, I happened to be 
traveling in a dark night, when coachee contrived to overturn us all — or, 
as they say in New York, dump us — in a ditch. We scrambled up, felt our 
legs and arms to be convinced that they were not broken, and finding, on 
examination, that inside and outside passengers were tolerably whole (on 
the whole), some one thought of the poor devil who was shut up with the 
baggage in the basket. He was found apparently senseless, and his neck 
twisted awry. One of the passengers, who had heard that any disloca- 
tion might be remedied, if promptly attended to, seized the corpse, with 
a determination to untwist the man's neck, and set his head straight oh his 
shoulders. Accordingly, with an iron grasp, he clutched him by the head, 
and began pulling and twisting by main force. He appeared to have suc- 
ceeded miraculously in restoring life ; for the dead man no sooner experi- 
enced the first wrench, than he roared vociferously, ' Let me alone ! let me 
alone! I'm not hurt — I was born so!' Gentlemen," added Stuart, "I 
was boru so ; " and, taking an enormous pinch of snufi', " I was lx)rn in a 
snuff-mill." 

This was partly true. His father, Gilbert Stuart, was a Scotchman, and 
erected a snuff-mill on the Narraganset, which was the first built in New 
England. He married a very handsome daughter of a Rhode Island fiirmer, 
by name Anthony ; and the year 1754, their son, Gilbert Charles, was born. 

He was a very capable, self-willed, and over-indulged lad. At thirteen 
years of age, he began to copy pictures, and soon after succeeded in making 
likenesses in black lead. W^hen he was about eighteen years of age, a 
wandering Scotch artist, by the name of Alexander, came to Rhode Island, 
and being pleased with the talents of the lad, instructed him in his art, and 
finally took him with him to Scotland. Alexander died soon after, leaving 



OF AMERrCAXS. 39 

young Stuart in a land of strangers. He went aboard of a collier bound to 
Nova Scotia, and worked his passage home, having been absent about a 
year. 

He wa.shed off the coal dust, put on a new suit of clothes, and went to 
[lainting. Fully conscious of the great importance of drawing wiih ana- 
tomical exactness, he took vast pains to attain it, and hired a strong-muscled 
blacksmith to sit for him as a model. His mother died when he was in his 
eleventh year, and yet he, at this time, from recollection produced so 
striking a likeness that his uncle from Philadeljihia recognized it the 
moment he entered the room. He soon had as much business in the por- 
trait line as he could attend to. 

Stuart's Love of painting was enthusi;istic, and the same with music, for 
he learned to play on a variety of instruments, and he also composed pieces 
himself. Lester says of him, in his biography, "He seems to have been 
gifted with the loftiest and best impulses of genius — whole days he passed 
in reading to his sister, in walking with her in the fields ; whole nights iu 
playing the flute under her window — he never came home from his rambles 
in the country without bringing her wild flowers. He had a kind of wild 
wayward life, made up of gleams of light and thick clouds, of shadows and 
sunshine ; and yet he loved music, and it soothed him when he was sad — 
and when he was half forsaken he used to think and talk of that sister; 
and when all was bright around him, for he was sometimes as happj' as 
we ever can be in a 'naughty world,' he took up his pencil and dashed 
away ' like Jehu ; ' and when such men as Reynolds looked at his pictures 
[minted in this mood, they said the lines were 'gleams of sunshine, all 
light, in the midst of deep shadows.' " 

Stuart was bent on seeking his fortune in London. So one day, in tho 
winter of 1776, he found himself wandering in the streets of that gre.at city, 
without a friend in the place or a pound in his pocket. Waterhouse, a 
school companion of his, whom he expected to meet there, was absent at 
Edinburgh studying medicine. 

He went by a church door in Foster Lane, where he heard an organ play- 
ing. He stepped upon the threshold, and the "pew- woman" told him, in 
answer to a question what was going on, that the vestry were together test- 
ing the candidates for the post of organist. He went in boldly — asked if he 
might try. He was told he could — he did — he succeeded — got the place, and 
a salary of one hundred and fifty dollars a year ! So much for the musical 
genius he had cultivated in America, when wise people were telling him he 
had better leave off serenading girls at night, playing the flute, and go to 
work. It gave him bread now, in the swarming wilderness of London, 
wiierc he r.eeded nothing else. 

Stuart's proficiency in the theory and practice of music, was an additional 
evidence of tho vigorous intellect and varied talents which constitute genius. 
He had that peculiar aptitude of mind, which would have made him excel 
iu anything to which he chose to direct his strong faculties. 

Stuart was thouglhless and improvident. His friends had to hunt for him 
occasionally in the sponging-house. He had been in London nearly two 
years before he made the acquaintance of West. Stuart says, " On ajipli- 
cation to West to receive me as a pupil, I was welcomed witli true beuev- 



40 ADVEXTURES AND ACillEYEMENTS 

olencc, encourai^ed, and takeu into the familj-, and nothing could exceed 
the attentions of the artist to me — they were paternal." 

There are a hundred fine stories told of this eccentric, witty, improvident, 
but noble Stuart. He was full of genius, but he would not brook the 
requisite toil, or he would have made himself one of the first painters o{ 
any age. One day the blunt Dr. Johnson came into West's studio and ad- 
dressed something to Stuart — "Why! you speak very good English, sir," 
said the Lexicographer, " where did you learn it?" " Sir," replied Stuart, 
" I can better tell you where I did not learn it — it was not from your dic- 
tionary." Dr. Johnson had too much sense to be offended. 

He was, at one time, traveling in an English stage-coach, when his com- 
panions manifested a great curiosity to ascertain his business, and questioned 
_him rather closely. He answcri, 1 v.ith a grave face and serious tone, that 
he sometimes dressed gentlemen's and ladies' hair (at that time the high 
craped pomatumed hair was all the fashion) — " You are a hair-dresser, 
then?" "What!" said he, "do you take me for a barber?" "I beg your 
pardon, sir, but I inferred it from what you said. If I mistook you, may I 
take the liberty to ask what j-ou are, then?" " Why, I sometimes brush a 
gentleman's coat, or hat, and sometimes adjust a cravat." "0, you are a 
valet, then, to some nobleman?" "A valet! indeed, sir, I am not. I am 
not a servant — to be sure I make coats and waistcoats for gentlemen." " ! 
TOU are a tailor ! " " Tailor ! do I look like a tailor? I'll assure you, I 
never handled a goose, other than a roasted one." By this time they were 
all in a roar. "What the devil are you, then?" said one. "I'll tell you," 
said Stuart. " Be assured all I have said is literally true. I dress hair, 
brush hats and coats, adjust a cravat, and make coats, waistcoats, and 
breeches, and likewise boots and shoes, at your service." " ho ! a boot and 
shoemaker, after all ! " " Guess again, gentlemen ; I never handled boot or 
shoe but for my own feet and legs ; yet all I have told you is true." " We 
may as well give up guessing." After checking his laughter, and pumping 
up a fresh flow of spirits by a large pinch of snuff, he said to them very 
gravely, "Now, gentlemen, I will not play the fool with j-on any longer, 
but will tell you, upon my honor as a gentleman, my hmia fide profession. 
I get my bread by making faces." He then screwed his countenance, and 
twisted the lineaments of his visage, in a manner such as Samuel Foote 
or Charles Matthews might have envied. When his comjianions, after loud 
peals of laughter, had composed themselves, each took credit to himself for 
having " all the while suspected the gentleman belonged to the theater," and 
they all knew that he must be a comedian by profession ; when, to their 
utter surprise, he assured them that he never was on the stage, and very 
rarely saw the inside of a play-house, or anj- similar place of amusement. 
They now all looked at each other with astonishment. 

Before parting, Stuart said to his companions, " Gentlemen, you will find 
that all I have said of my various employments, is comprised in these few- 
words : I am a portrait painter. If you will call at John Palmer's, York 
Buildings, London, where I shall be ready and willing to brush you a coat 
or hat, dress your hair a la mode, supply you, if in need, with a wig of any 
fashion or dimensions, accommodate you with boots or shoes, give you 
rufiles or cravats, and make faces for vou." 



OP AMERICANS. 41 

All wlio have written about Stuart, speak of liis woudeiful ppwers of 
conversation. " In this respect," sajs Waterhouae, " he was inferior to no 
man among us. He made it a point to keep those talking who were 
sitting to him for their portraits, each in their own way, free and easy. This 
called up all his resources of judgment. To military men he spoke of 
battles by sea and land ; with the statesman on Hume's and Gibbon's His- 
tory ; with the lawyer on jurisprudence or remarkable criminal trials ; with 
the merchant, in his way ; with the man of leisure, in Lis way, and with 
the ladies in all ways. Wheu putting the rich farmer on the canva.s, ho 
would go along from seed-time to harvest-time — he would descant on tho 
nice points of the horse, os, cow, sheep, or pig, and surprise him with his 
just remarks in the process of making cheese and butter, or astonish him 
with bis profound knowledge of manures, or the food of plants. As t« 
national and individual character, few men could say more to the purpose, 
as far as history and acute personal observation would carry him. He had 
wit at will — always ample, sometimes redundant." 

Stuart read men's characters as easily as ho read newspapers. Lord 
llulgrave employed him to paint his brother, General Phipps, who was 
going out to India. When the picture was done, and the general had 
sailed, the earl came for the piece. " This picture looks strange, sir," said 
the disturbed nobleman, " How is it? I see — I think I see insanitij in that 
face." " It may be so," replied Stuart, " but I painted your brother as I 
saw him." The first account Lord Mulgrave had from his brother, was that 
his insanity, unknown and unapprehended by any of his friends, had driven 
him into suicide ! 

Stuart generally produced a likeness on tho pannel or ccuivas, before 
•paintiixj ill the eyes, his theory being, that on the nose, more than any 
other feature, likeness depended. On one occasion when a pert coxcomb 
had been sitting to him, the painter gave notice that the sitting was ended, 
the dandy exclaimed on looking at the canvas, " Wh}- — it has no eyes!" 
Stuart replied, " It is not nine days old yet." We presume our readers need 
not be reminded that nine days must elapse from the birth of a puppy, 
before he opens his eyes. 

Stuart had now become a fashionable and leading artist in London. But 
he lived in splendor and was the gayest of the gay ; his indulgencies and 
iiis improvidences wearied his friends. He was poor on money that would 
have enriched any other man. One day he was drinking with earls, dukes, 
and princes; the next, cracking jokes with companions in a debtor's prhson. 
But rich people would be painted, and they had to go to jail to get it done ; 
and so he painted his way out. 

In 1794, he turned his back on his good fortune and came home to 
America. His principal inducement was his great desire to paint the por- 
trait of Wa.shington, for whom he had the greatest admiration. 

Stuart had been familiar with the highest society of England, but he was 
embarrassed wheu he entered the room where Washington Wiis, .and he 
said it was the first time he had ever felt awe in the jiresence of a fellow 
man. 

Stuart was now gratified in the accomplishment of the hope of years. 
Washington was standing on the highest eminence of glory any man had 



43 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

yet stooij on ; the gaze of the world was fixed steadily upon him. To 
leave for posterity a faithful portrait of him, and thus link his name forever 
with that great man's, had now become the most earnest wish of Stuart's 
life. Washington sat for his portrait — Stuart was not pleased with his first 
attempt. It may easily be imagined with what feelings the painter was 
stirred, when he gazed with the full, clear, earnest eye of the artist, upon 
that face which Guizot has declared more than half divine. It is a matter 
of little surprise that he failed on the first trial. He destroyed the picture. 
Washington sat again, and then ho painted as good a portrait as ever was or 
am be painted. 

This picture is now in the Boston Athenanim. A couple of anecdotes are 
told in relation to Stuart and Washington, which are among the few authentic 
instances of Washington's losing his self-control. One morning, as the painter 
api^roached the house, the street door and inner door were open, so that his 
eye was led directly into the parlor ; and just as he was about to ascend 
the steps, he saw Washington seize a man by the collar and thrust him 
violently across the room. This being an awkward moment to enter the 
house, he passed on a short distance ; but immediately returned, and found 
the president sitting very composedly in his chair. After the usual saluta- 
tion, his first words were, " Mr. Stuart, when you went away, j'ou turned the 
face of your picture to the wall, and gave directions that it should remain 
so, to prevent its receiving any injury, but when I came into the room this 
morning the face was turned outward as you now see it, the doors were 
(jpen, and here was a fellow raising a dust with a broom, and I know not 
but the picture is ruined." It so happened, however, that no essential harm 
was done. 

Stuart, while engaged on this work, after several ineffectual attempts to 
bring that noble but restrained soul to the surface, to make the calm eye of 
the great man flash, and his patient features light up with excitement, prac- 
ticed a stratagem to effect his object. He got everything in readiness and 
then left the room just before the time of appointment, knowing Washing- 
ton's scrupulous punctuality, and his exaction of it in all with whom he 
had to do ; he waited in an adjoining room until he heard a loud exclama- 
tion of impatience, and the rapid steps that told of an angry mood. Then 
lie entered, respectfully greeted Washington — who sternly resumed his seat 
— seized his ]ialette, and, after a few touches, apologized by confessing that 
he had practiced the rvse to call up a look of moral indignation, which 
would give spirit to his delineation. 

Stuart lived after this thirty-four years, preserving his great powers to the 
very last. The portrait of John Quincy Adams was his last work. He 
(lied m 1828, and was buried in the cemetery of the Episcopal Church, in 
Boston. 

Vv'hen an English ambassador was leaving England for America, he called 
on West, and asked him to recommend a portrait painter. "Where are 
you going?" "To the United States." "There, sir," said West, "you 
will find tk3 best portrait painter in the world, and his name is Gilbert 
Stuait." 

When Sullv wa? in Boston, he requested Allston to accompany him to 
see a portrait of Mr. Gibbs, by Stuart. "Well," says Allston, "what is 



OP AMERICANS. 43 

your oiiiniou?" The reply vas, "I may commit myself ami expose my 
i:;noraiicc : but in my opinion, I never saw a Rembrandt, Reubens, Vandyke, 
(ir 'I'itian equal to it. AVliat say you? " " I say," replied AUston, " that all 
combined could not have equaled it." 

JOHN TRUMDULL. 

Our coiantrymen are much indebted to John Tkumbull, whose genius 
and industry have preserved to them, for all time, the great scenes of our 
war for independence, with accurate portraits of those eminent men who 
risked their ail in the struggle. 

He was born in Lebanon, Connecticut, in 1756, and was the son of Jon- 
nthan Trumbull, governor of that State through the entire war of the Revo- 
lution, and governor of the colony before the war ; being tlie only one of 
all the chief magistrates, who had served both the Crown and tlie Re- 
public. 

At six years of age, the future artist would read Greek " in a certain 
way." He says, in his autobiography : " My taste for drawing began to 
(lawn early. It is common to talk of natural genius ; but I am disposed to 
doubt the existence of sucli a principle in the human mind ; at least in my 
own case, I can clearly trace it to mere imitation. My two sisters. Faith and 
Mary, had completed their education at an excellent school in Boston, where 
they both had been taught embroidery ; and the eldest. Faith, had acquired 
some knowledge of drawing, and had even painted in oil two heads and a 
landscape. These wonders were hung in my mother's parlor, and were 
among the first objects that caught my infant eye. I endeavored to imitate 
them, and for several years the nicely sanded floors (for carpets were then 
unknown in Lebanon) were constantly scrawled with my rude attempts at 
drawing. 

About the same time music first caught my attention. I heard a jews- 
harp — delicious sound ! which no time can drive from my enchanted mem- 
ory ! I have since been present at a commemoration of Handel, in West- 
minster Abbey, and have often listened with rapture to the celestial warblings 
of Catalani — I have heard the finest miisic of the age in London and in Paris, 
but nothing can obliterate the magic charm of that jews-harp, and even at 
this late moment, its sweet vibrations seem to tingle on my car." 

Trumbull painted and studied till his sixteenth year, when he was entered 
at Harvard (1772), in the Junior class, " the best educated boy of his age 
in New England" — said the Greek professor. 

"My fondness for painting had grown with my growth, and in reading 
of the arts of antiquity, I had become familiar with the names of Phidias 
and Praxiteles, of Zeuxis and Appelies. These names had come down 
through a series of more than two thousand years, with a celebrity and ap- 
plause which accompanied few of those who had been devoted to the more 
noisy and turbulent scenes of politics or war. The tranquillity of the art 
seemed better suited to me than the bustling scenes of life." 

He searched the library for all the books on art he could find, copied 
some fine paintings, and, on graduating the next year, returned to Lebanon, 
where he continued his artistic labors, by designing the death of Paulua 
Kmilius, at the battle of CanniB. 



44 ADVENTURES AND ACniEVEMEKTS 

In tne summer and autumn of 177i, the angry discussions between Great 
Britain and her Colonies began to assume a very serious tone. " I caught 
the growing enthusiasm," he says; "the characters of Brutus, of Paulus 
Emilius, of the Scipios, were fresh in my remembrance, and their devoted 
jjatriotism always before my eyes ; besides, my father was now governor of 
the colony, and a patriot, of course surrounded by patriots, to whose ardent 
conversation I listened daily ; it would have been strange if all this had 
failed to produce its natural effect. I sought for military information 
acquired what knowledge I could, soon formed a small company from 
among the young men of the school and the village, taught them, or more 
properly we taught each other, to use the musket and to march, and military 
exercises and studies became the favorite occupation of the day. 

" When my mother was preparing and packing up my linen and clothes 
for this campaign, she said to me, ' My son, when I recollect the sufferings 
of your infancy, witli your present feebleness of constitution, and anticipate 
the hardships and dangers to which you are about to be exposed, I hardly 
dare to hope that we shall ever meet again ; however, in all events, my 
dear son, I charge you so to conduct yourself, that if ever I do see you 
again, it may be with the pride and delight of a mother.' " 

On the 19th of April, 1775, the blood of our fathers began to flow on 
the plains of Lexington. Before the first of May a regiment of troops 
"started into view as by magic," and were on their march for Bunker 
Hill. Young Trumbull was adjutant of the regiment. lie was the best 
draughtsman in the army, and his drawings of battle-fields, forts, and forti^ 
fications, brought him to the notice of the commander-in-chief, who ap- 
pointed the young painter his second aid-de-camp. He was afterward de- 
tached from Washington's staff, and made a major of brigade at Roxbury. 
When General Gates took command of the " Northern Department," lie 
offered Trumbull the appointment of adjutant, and he attended him on his 
northern exjpedition, where he distinguished himself in the service of the 
Colonies. 

On the 22d of February, 1777, terminated Trumbull's "regular military 
career." The cause of his resignation he explained in a letter to the Presi- 
dent of Congress, llis commission as deputy adjutant-general, was dated 
the 12th of December, 1776 — he had served in that ofSce since the 28th of 
June, by the appointment of Major-Goneral Gates, who was authorized to 
make the appointment by particular instructions from Congress. Trumbull 
was right in principle, but the manner of his resignation offended the congres.s. 
He would not yield a point of honor, and his course has been justified by 
some of the most distinguished officers of the Revolution. 

" Thus ended my regular military service, to my deep regret, for my 
mind was at this time full of lofty military aspirations." 

Some time after this, he went to Boston and hired a room, in which to 
study painting. He occupied himself in his art by studies from some excel- 
lent paintings ; copies, by Symbert, from Vandyck, Poussin, and Raphael. 

"The war," said he, "was a period little favorable to regular study and 
deliberate pursuits : mine were often desultory. A deep and settled regret 
of the military career from which I had been driven, and to which there 
appeared to oe no possibility of an honorable return, preyed upon my spirits ; 



OF AMERICANS. 45 

and the sound of a drum frequently called ;\n involuntary tear to my 
eye." 

In the summer of 1780, Trumbull went to Europe, with the intention of 
studying painting under Mr. West. He had received the assurance, through 
the intervention of a friend, from the British Secretary of State, that, not- 
withstanding his past military life, he could pursue the study of art unmo- 
lested, provided he avoided all meddling with politics. He was received 
kindly by Mr. West, then in the noon of his glory, who, when he saw his 
copy of the Madonna, said, " Mr. Trumbull, I have no hesitation to say 
that nature intended you for a painter. You possess the essential qualities ; 
nothing more is necessary but careful and assiduous cultivation." 

A movement was set on foot against Trumbull b}' some American loyalist, 
and he was arrested for "high treason," and taken off at eleven o'clock at 
night to a hck-iip Jwuse in Drury Lane. E.\amined the ne.\t morning by 
three police magistrates, who seemed to desire to know something about the 
traitor, he thus addressed them: "You appear to have been much more 
habituated to the society of highwaymen and pickpockets, than to that of 
gentlemen. I will put an end to all this insolent folly, by telling you 
frankly who and what I am. I am an American — my name is Trumbull ; 
I am a son of him whom you call the rebel Governor of Connecticut ; I have 
served in the rebel American army ; I have had the honor of being an 
aid-de-camp to him whom you call the rebel General Washington. These 
two have always in their power a greater number of your friends, prisoners, 
than you have of theirs. Lord George Germaine knows under what cir- 
cumstances I came to London, and what has been my conduct here. I am 
entirely in your power ; and after the hint which I have given you, treat me 
as you please, always remembering, that as I maj' be treated, so will your 
friends in America be treated by mine." 

The painter's commitment was made out for a loathsome prison — the 
only one the Gordon riots had left standing in London — and the first night 
the son of the Governor of Connecticut slept with a h!(jhwaij)nan. 

The moment West heard what had befallen his pupil, he " hurried to 
Buckingham House, asked an audience of the king, and was admitted." 
"I am sorry for the young man," said the king, "but he is in the hands of 
the law, and must abide the result ; I cannot interpose. Do you know 
whether his parents are living?" "I think I have heard him say that he 
has very lately received news of the death of his mother ; I believe his 
father is living." 

"1 pity him, from my soul'." He mused a few moments, and then 
added : " But, West, go to Mr. Trumbull immediately, and pledge to him 
my royal promise, that, in the worst possible event of the law, his life 
shall be safe." With this kind answer. West hurried away to the prison. 
"I had now," says Trumbull, "nothing more to apprehend than a tedious 
confinement, and that might bo softened by books and my pencil. I there- 
fore begged Mr. West to permit me to have his beautiful little Corregio and 
my tools; I proceeded with the copy, which was finished in prison during 
the winter of 1780-81, and is now deposited in the gallery at New Haven." 

After an imprisonment of seven months, Trumbull was liberated on the 
condition of leaving the kingdom within thirty days, not to return during 



46 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

the war. On the restoration of peace, he again returned to England, and 
studied under West. He soon began to meditate seriously of events of the 
Revolution, which afterward became the great objects of his professional life. 
The death of General Warren at the battle of Bunker Hill, and of General 
Montgomery at Quebec, were first painted. " Mr. West witnessed the pro- 
gress of these pictures with great interest, and strongly encouraged me to 
persevere in the work of the history of the American Revolution, which 
I had thus commenced, and recommended to have the series engraved." 

This suggestion TrurnbuU followed up all through life, at a great sacrifice 
of time, money, and tranquillity. With a view to accomplish his object he 
visited Paris in 1785, at the invitation of Mr. Jefferson, who was a liberal 
and enlightened friend of art. The great statesman received Trumbull 
"most kindly at his house," where he made it his home. 

"My two paintings, the first fruits of my national enterprise, met his 
warm approbation, and during my visit, I began the composition of the 
Declaration of Independence, with the assistance of his information and ad- 
vice." 

He also made various studies for the Surrender of Lord Cornwallis, and 
the Battle of Trenton, and Princeton. He al'o painted, at this period, his 
celebrated picture of the Sortie from Gibraltar, which Horace Walpole said 
was " the finest picture he had seen painted north of the Alps." 

Trumbull returned the second time to the United States in November, 
1789. Congress met in Now York early in December. " All the world was 
assembled there, and I obtained many portraits for the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, Surrender of Cornwallis, and also that of General Washington in 
the battles of Trenton and Princeton." He now spent a considerable time in 
journeying to distant parts of the country, painting portraits of the illus- 
trious men he introduced into his historical pieces — a work which no other 
man of his time seemed inclined to do. 

In 1792, he painted the best portrait extant of Washington as a general, 
in his Aerozc military character. It is a full length of Washington at Tren- 
ton ; and is now in the Trumbull Gallery at New Haven. He was at this 
time in the prime of life, about forty-five years of age. The portrait most 
familiar to his countrymen is that of Stuart, which represents Washington 
as the president, when he was an old man, and the expression of his mouth 
injured by a set of false teeth. " I told the president my object," says Trum- 
bull ; "he entered into it warmly, and, as the work advanced, we talked of 
the scene, its dangers, its almost desperation. He looJced the scene again, 
and I happily transferred to the canvas the lofty expression of his animated 
countenance, the high resolve to conquer or to perish." 

In the year 1815, Congress authorized the president to employ Trumbull 
to compose and execute four paintings, commemorative of the most impor- 
tant events of the American P»evolution, to be placed in the Capitol of the 
United States. 

The choice of the subjects and the size of each picture, was left to the 
president, Mr. Madison. In the interview between the artist and the presi- 
dent, it was concluded to make the pictures of dimensions to admit the 
fi<Tures to be the size of life. The four subjects decided upon, were the 
Surrender of Burgovne — the Surrender of Cornwallis — the Declaration of 



OF AMERICANS. 47 

Independence — Eesignation of General Washington of his Commission as 
Commauder-in-Chief of the American Army, to Congress. He was em- 
ployed upon these ahout eiglit years, the last being finished in 1824, about 
which time he had the misfortune to lose his wife. He received thirty-two 
thousand dollars for these works, from government ; but some of his mercan- 
tile speculations had turned out badly, obliging him to sacrifice everything 
to meet his obligations. Ho says : 

" My contract with the government was honorably fulfilled. My debts 
were paid, but I had the world before me to begin anew. I had passed the 
term of three-score years and ten, the allotted period of human life. My 
best friend was removed from me and I had no child. A sense of loneliness 
began to creep over my mind, yet my hand was steady and my sight good, 
and I felt the vis vitm strong within me. Why then sink down into pre- 
mature imbecility? 

1 resolved, therefore, to begin a new series of my paintings of revolution- 
ary subjects, of a smaller size than those in the Capitol, and to solace my 
heavy hours by working on them. I chose the size of six feet by nine, and 
began. Funds, however, began to diminish, and I sold scraps of furniture, 
fragments of plate, etc. My pictures remained on my hands unsold, and to 
all appearances unsaleable. At length the thought occurred to me, that 
although the hope of a sale to a nation or to a State became more and more 
desperate from day to day, yet in an age of speculation, it might be possible 
that some society might be willing to possess these paintings, on condition 
of paying me a life annuity. I first thought of Harvard College, my alma 
mater, but she was rich, and amply endowed. I then thought of Yale — 
.ilthough not my alma, yet she was within my native State and poor. I 
liintsd this idea to a friend (Mr. Alfred Smith, of Hartford) — it took — was 
followed up, and resulted in a contract." 

A gallery, fire-proof, was erected by the college — his pictures arranged 
under the direction of the artist, and an aimuity of one thousand dollars 
settled upon him for the remainder of his life. Trumbull also made one 
noble condition in this final disposition of his works, which should alone 
give immortality to his name. After his death, the entire proceeds of the 
exhibition of the Gallery, were to be "perpetually appropriated toward de- 
fraying the expense of educating poor scholars in Yale College." He says 
in the close of his autobiography : 

" Thus I derive present subsistence principally from this source, and have 
besides the happy reflection, that when I sliall have gone to my rest, these 
works will remain a source of good to many a poor, perhaps meritorious and 
excellent man." 

The Trumbull Gallery at New Haven, contains about forty large paint- 
ings by the artist, beside nearly two hundred and fifty portraits of per- 
sons distinguished during the Revolutionary period, painted by him from 
life. Among them is that noble, full length of Washington at Trenton. 
There too are those inimitable battle-pieces — the Death of Warren, at 
Bunker Hill, and of Montgomery, at Quebec. In these two compositions, 
"the accuracy of drawing, the admirable coloring, the variety of figures in- 
troduced, the force of expression displayed in their attitudes and counte- 
nances, with their striking effect as a whole, stamp these productions aa 



iS ADVE^n^URES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

master-pieces of the art." As battle-pieces, they are probably unequaled 
by those of any artist, living or dead. 

These pictures are familiar to most readers, from the engraved copies 
in the early histories of the United States. 

The painting of the Battle of Bunker Hill, "represents the moment (the 
Americans having expended their ammunition) the British troops became 
completely successful and masters of the field. At this last moment of the 
action. General Warren was killed by a musket ball through the head. 
The principal group represents hira expiring ; a soldier on his knees sup- 
ports him, and with one hand wards off the bayonet of a British grenadier, 
who, in the heat and fury natural at such a moment, aims to revenge the 
death of a favorite officer, Colonel Abercombic, who had just fallen at his 
feet. Colonel Small (whose conduct in America was always equally distin- 
guished by acts of humanity and kindness to his enemies, as by bravery 
and fidelity to the cause he served), had been intimately connected with 
General Warren — saw him fall, and flew to save him. He is represented 
seizing the musket of the grenadier, to prevent the fatal blow, and speaking 
to his friend ; it was too late ; the general had barely life remaining to 
recognize the voice of friendship ; he had lost the power of speech, and 
expired with a smile of mingled gratitude and triumph. Near him, several 
Americans, whose ammunition is expended, although destitute of bayonets, 
are seen to persist in a resistance obstinate and desperate, but fruitless. 
Near this side of the painting is seen General Putnam, reluctantly ordering 
the retreat of these brave men ; while beyond him a party of American 
troops oppose their last fire to the victorious column of the enemy. 

Behind Colonel Small is seen Colonel Pitcairn, of the British marines, 
mortally wounded, and falling in the arms of his son, to whom ho was 
speaking at the fatal moment. Under the feet of Colonel Small lies the 
dead body of Colonel Abercombie. 

General Howe, who commanded the British troops, and General Clinton, 
who toward the close of the action, offered his services as a volunteer, are 
seen behind the principal group. 

On the right of the painting a young American, wounded in the sword 
hand, and in the breast, has begun to retire, attended by a faithful negro ; 
but seeino- his general fall, hesitates whether to save himself, or, wounded 
as he is, to return and assist in saving a life more precious to his country 
than his own. 

Behind this group are seen the British column ascending the hill— grena- 
diers headed by an officer bearing the British colors, mounting the feeble 
intrenchments; and more distant, the Somerset ship-of-war (which lay 
durinn- the action between Boston and Charlestown), the north end of Bos- 
ton, with the battery on Copp's Hill ; and the harbor, shipping, etc. 

No part of the town of Charlestown is seen ; but the dark smoke indi- 
cates the conflagration." 

In the painting of the attack on Quebec, "that part of the scene is 
chosen where General Montgomery commanded in jierson ; and that moment, 
when by his unfortunate death, the plan of attack was entirely disconcerted, 
and the consequent retreat of his column decided at once the fate of the 
place, and of such of the assailants as had already entered at another point. 



OF AMERICANS. 49 

The principal group represents the death of General Montgomery, who, 
together with his two aids-de-camp, Major M'Pherson and Captain Choos- 
man, fell by a discharge of grapeshot iVora the cannon of the place. The 
general is represented as expiring, supported lij- two of his oflrcers, and .sur- 
rounded by others, among whom is Colonel Campbell, on whom the com- 
mand devolved, and by whose order a retreat was immediately begun. 

Grief and surprise mark the countenances of the various characters. 
The earth covered with snow — trees stripped of their foliage — the desola- 
tion of winter, and the gloom of night heightened the melancholy character 
of the scene." 

Trumbull's "Declaration of Independence" is the best known of any 
American work of art. " To preserve the resemblance of the men who 
were the authors of this memorable act, was an essential object of this 
jiainting. Important difficulties presented themselves to the artist at the 
outset ; for although only ten years had then elapsed since the date of the 
event, it was already difficult to ascertain who were the individuals to be 
represented. Should he regard the fact of having been actually present in 
the room on the fourth of July, indispensable? Should he admit those only 
who were in favor of, and reject those who were opposed to the act? Where a 
person was dead, and no authentic portrait could be obtained, should he ad- 
mit ideal heads? These were questions on which Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefler- 
6on were consulted, and they concurred in the advice, that with regard to the 
characters to be introduced, the signatures of the original act (which is still 
preserved in the office of state), ought to be the general guide. That pior- 
traits ought, however, to be jKlmitted, of those who were opposed to, and 
of course did not sign, as well as of those who voted in favor of the declara- 
tion, and did sign it, particularly John Dickinson, of Delaware, author of 
the Farmer's Letters, who was the most eloquent and powerful opposer of 
the measure ; not indeed of its pirinciple, but of the fitness of the time, 
which he considered premature. And they particularly recommended, that 
wherever it wa.s possible, the artist should obtain his portrait from the living 
person ; that where any one was dead, he should be careful to copy the 
finest portrait that could be obtained ; but that in case of death, where 
no portrait could be obtained (and there were many such instances, for, an- 
terior to the llevolution, the arts had been very little attended to, except in 
one or two cities), he should by no means admit any ideal representation, 
lest it being known that some such were to be found in the jiainting, a 
doubt of the truth of others should be excited in the minds of posterity ; 
and that, in short, absolute authenticity should be attempted, as far as it 
could be attained. 

The artist was governed by this advice, and spared neither jiains nor ex- 
pense in obtaining his portraits from the living. Mr. Adams was painted in 
London ; Mr. Jefferson in Paris ; Mr. Hancock and Samuel Adams in Bos- 
ton ; Mr. Edward Eutledge in Charleston, South Carolina ; Mr. Wythe at 
Williamsburg, in Virginia ; Mr. B.artlett at Exeter, in New Hampshire, etc. 

In order to give some variety to his composition, he found it necessary to 
depart from the usual practice of reporting an act, and has made the whole 
committee of five advance to the table of the president to make their re- 
port, instead of having the chairman rise in his place for the purpose; the 



50 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

silence and solemnity of tlie scene, offered such real difScultics to a pic- 
turesque and agreeable composition, as to justify, in his opinion, this depar- 
ture from custom, and perhaps fact. Silence and solemnity he thought 
essential to the dignity of the subject ; levity or inattention would have 
been unworthy on such an occasion and in such an assembly. The dresses 
are faithfully copied from the costume of the lime, the present fashion 
of pantaloons and trowsers being then unkno\ra among gentlemen. 

The room is copied from that in which Congress held their sessions at 
the time, such as it was before the spirit of innovation laid unhallowed 
hands upon it, and violated its venerable walls by modern improvement, aa 
it is called. The artist also took the liberty of embellishing the background, 
by suspending upon the wall, military flags and trophies ; such as had been 
taken from the enemy at St. Johns, Chambly, etc., and probably were actually 
placed in the hall. In fact nothing has been neglected by the artist, that 
was in his power, to render this a faithful memorial of the great event." 

The remains of Trumbull, with those of his wife, are deposited in a 
vault under the Trumbull Gallery. The following is a part of the in- 
scription on bis monumental tablet : " Colonel John Trumbull, Painter and 
Artist, Friend and Aid of Washington, died, in New York, November 10, 
1843, aged eighty-eight. To his Country he gave his Sword and his Pencil." 
Lester states, in his "Artists of America," that to no one artist " does the 
country owe so much as to Trumbull. Congress paid grudgingly eiglxt 
thousand dollars a piece for his four great paintings in the Piotunda — but 
what reiwesentative of the American people would dare now to rise in his 
place, and propose to sell the Declaration of Independence, I care not what 
sum were offered for it? It is the only picture in the world which has pre- 
served the forms and expressions of the great fathers of American liberty, 
and it would be sacrilege to ruin it, because it is above all price. As ages 
roll by, the wonderful events those pictures commemorate, will be graven 
more deeply- in the minds of men, and to each successive generation they 
will become more invaluable. The early historical painters of nations have 
always ranked among their early historians — they stand side by side at the 
fountains of history, to rescue those sacred forms and reUcs, which, but for 
their holy vigilance, would have passed away forever." 



AN ACCURATE AND INTERESTING ACCOUNT 



HARDSHIPS AND SUFFERINGS 



OF THAT 

BAND OF 11 E II O E S, 

WHO TRAVERSED THE WILDERNESS IN 

THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST QITEBEC, IN 1775. 



The above is tbe title of a little volume of about two hundred pages. It 
was written by the Hon. John Joseph Henry, for the instruction and amuse- 
ment of his children, and was not published until after his death, in 1812.* 
The author, the son of William Henry, Esq., the inventor of the screw-augur, 
was born at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in 1758. At the age of fourteen, he 
was apprenticed to an uncle who was a gunsmith, and accompanied him to 
Detroit, where, however, his stay was short, on account of the scarcity of 
busine.«s. He returned on foot, with a single guide, who died in the wilder- 
ness which lay between Detroit and his home, and it was there that hard- 
ship.s and misfortune were first encountered. Soon after his return, the 
troubles of his countr}' aroused attention, and his ardent mind panted for 
militar}' glory. In the fall of 1775, he clandestinely joiuL-d a cordis of Lan- 
caster men raised to reinforce Arnold at Boston. He was then a mere strip- 
ling, the youngest of that band of heroes who accompanied Arnold to Que- 
bec : the day he entered Canada being but his seventeenth birthday. 

While in prison in Quebec, where he lay for nine months, ho contracted 
the scurvy which, on his retn.rn, assumed a most malignant form, and frus- 
trated all his plans of future militaiy life, for which purpose a captaincy 
had been procured for him in Morgaii's famous Virginia rifle regiment. After 
the war, he studied law and eventually w.os appointed by Gov. Mifflin, Pres- 
ident Judge of the Second Judicial District of Pennsylvania. He died in 
1809, some of the leisure of his last years having been devoted to the writ- 
ing of the instructive narrative to his "dear children," here given in an 
abridged form. ' 

• It m.iy iutcrest pereons not fiimiliar witli tlie demand for old scarce works illustrating 
American Histoi-y to state, tliat this small volume, tlic oiiginal price of which was proh- 
nbly not over one dollar, brought at an auction in New York City, of rare American works, 
ten dollars, wliich is more than its weight in silver— it weigliina; but seven ounces. 
Another scarce American work, weiu;hiiig but seventeen onmX'S was sold to the writer for 
thirty dollars ; yet these prices are low compared to what I)ooks comprising the saino 
simouut of matter were 'ii manuscript before the invention of piiiitii:^. 

4 fsn 



52 ADVENTDIiES ANu ACHIEVEMENTS 

My Dear Childkex. — 

There is a point, in the history of the American revolution, hitherto little 
attended to ; as yet imperfectly related, and now at this late daj- almost for- 
gotten ; which would deserve and require the talents and genius of a Xeno- 
phon, to do it real justice. As your father in early life had a concern in that 
adventure, permit him to relate to you in the words of tmth, a compendious 
detail of the sufferings of a small band of heroes ; unused, to be sure, to 
military tactics and due subordination, but whose souls were fired by an en- 
thusiastic love of country, and a spirit such as has often inspired our ances- 
tors, when determined to bo free. 

In the autumn of 1775, our adorable Washington, thought it prudent to 
make a descent upon Canada. A detachment from the American grand 
irmy, then in the vicinity of Boston, was organized, to fulfill this intention, 
by the route of the Kennebec and Chaudiere Rivers. It was intended as a 
co-operation with the army of General Montgomery, who had entered the 
same province, by the way of Champlain and Montreal. Colonel Benedict 
Arnold was appointed the commander-in-chief of the whole detachment, 
which consisted of eleven hundred men. Colonel Enos was second in com- 
mand. Riflemen composed a part of the armament. These companies, from 
sixty-five to seventy-five strong, were from the southward : that is, Captain 
Daniel Morgan's company from Virginia ; that of Captain William Hend- 
ricks' from Cumberland county in Pennsylvania, and Captain Matthew 
Smith's company from the county of Lancaster, in the latter province. The 
residue, and bulk of this corps, consisted of troops mainly from Massachu- 
setts, Rhode Island and Connecticut. All these men were of as rude and 
hardy a race as ourselves, and as unused to the discipline of a camp, and as 
fearless as we were. They were an excellent body of men, formed by nature 
as the stamina of an army, fitted for a tough and tight defense of the liber- 
ties of their country. The principal distinction between us, was in our dia- 
lects, our arms, and our dress. Each man of the three companies, bore a rifle- 
barreled gun, a tomahawk, or small axe, and a long knife, usually called a 
"scalping-knife," which served for all purposes, in the woods. His under- 
dress, by no means in a military style, was covered by a deep ash-colored 
hunting-shirt, leggins, and moccasins, if the latter could be procm-ed. It was 
the silly fashion of those times, for riflemen to ape the manners of savages. 

Our commander, Arnold, was of a remarkable character. He was brave, 
even to temerity, was beloved by the soldiery, perhaps for that quality 
only : — he possessed great powers of persuasion, was complaisant : but withal 
sordidly avaricious. Arnold was a short handsome man, of a florid com- 
plexion, stoutly made, and forty years old at least. On the other hand 
Morgan was a large strong-bodied personage, whose appearance gave the 
idea history has left us of Belisarius. His manners were of the severer 
cast ; but where he became attached he was kind and truly affectionate. 
This is said, from experience of the most sensitive'and pleasing nature ; ac- 
tivity, spirit and courage in a soldier, procured his good will and esteem. 
Hendricks was tall, of a mild and beautiful countenance. His soul was an- 
imated by a genuine spark of heroism. Smith was a good looking man, had 
the air of a soldier, was illiterate and outrageously talkative. Tlio officers 
of the eastern troops, were many of them men of sterling worth. 



OF AMERICAXS. 53 

Our little army, in liiyh spirits, marched from Prospect Uill, near Cam- 
Widge, on tho lltli of September, 1775, to Xewburj-port ; from theuce we 
embarked in transports to the mouth of the Kennebec, run up that river 
one hundred and fifty miles to Colonel Cobourn's ship-yard, there obtained 
batteaux, and proceeded to Fort Western. II ere it was concluded to dis- 
patch an officer and seven men in advance, for the purposes of ascertaining 
and marking the paths, which were used by the Indians at the numerous 
carrying-places in the wilderness, toward the heads of the river; and also, 
to ascertain the course of the River Chaudiere, which runs from the height 
of land, toward Quebec. 

To give some degree of certainty of success to so hazardous an enterprise, 
Arnold found it necessary to select an oflicer of activity and courage ; the 
choice fell upon Archibald Steele of Smith's company, a man of an active, 
courageous, sprightly and hardy disposition, who was complimented with 
the privilege of naming his companions. These consisted of Jesse Wheeler, 
George Merchant, and James Clifton, of Morgan's ; and Robert Cunningham, 
Thomas Boyd, John Tidd, and John M'Koukey, of Smith's company. 
Though a very youth, yet in a small degree accustomed to hardships, de- 
rived from long marches in the American woods, Steele's course of selec- 
tion next fell upon your father, who was his messmate and friend. Two 
biroh-bai'k canoes were provided ; and two guides, celebrated for the man- 
agement of such water-craft, and who knew the river as high up as tho 
great carrying-place, were also found. These were Jeremiah Getchel, a 
very respectable man, and John Home, an Irishman, who had grown gray 
in this cold climate. 

This small party, unconscious of danger, and animated by a hope of ap- 
plause from their country, set forward from Fort Western in their light 
barks, at the rate of from fifteen to twenty, and in good water twenty-five 
miles per d.iy. These canoes are so light, that a person of common strength, 
may carry one of the smaller kind, such as ours were, many hundred yards 
without halting. 

On the evening of tho 23d of September, our party arrived at Fort Ilal- 
ifax, situated on the point, formed by a junction of the Sabasticoog and 
Kennebec Rivers. Here our commander, Steele, was accosted by a Captain 
Han-ison, or Huddlestone, inviting him and the company to his house. Tho 
invitation was gladly accepted, as the accommodation at the fort, which con- 
.■sisted of old block-houses and a stockade in a ruinous state, did not admit of 
much comfort ; besides it was inhabited, as our friend the captain said, by a 
rank tory. Here, for the first time, tho application of the American term 
"tory," was defined to me by the captain. Its European definition was well 
known before. In a very few days, we arrived safely at Norridgewoc Falls, 
and passed the portage. We ascended the river rapidly, blazing every car- 
rying-place. Having now seceded many miles from the last white inhabit- 
ants at Korridgcwoc, it became us therefore to proceed cautiously. The 
party proceeded without molestation, but from natural rock, and a strict cur- 
rent (by the 27th of September), to the twelve-mile carryiiig-i)lace. We 
searched for the carrying-place, and found a path tolerably distinct, which 
we made more so by blazing the trees and sn.igging the biishes with our 
tomahawks. Proceeding until evening, the party encampied at the margiu 



54 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMENTS 

of a small lake, perhaps about half a mile wide, whore there was plenty of 
trout, which old Clifton, who was good at angling, caught in abundance. 
Here, in a conference on the subject, it was resolved that two persons of the 
party, Clifton and M'Konkey, should remain (with about one half of the 
jirovisions), until the return of our main body, calculating the return would 
be in eight or ten days. 

By the next evening we encamped on the north hank of the Dead River, 
an extension of the Kennebec. The company, not apprehending the re- 
verses which fortune had in store for them, proceeded on next day full of 
courage and hope, through a strong drift of snow, which whitening all the 
surrounding hills, had fallen during the night. 

As we could not obtain food, in this miserable portion of the globe, we pru- 
dently began to hoard our provision ; half a biscuit and half an inch square 
of raw pork became this evening's meal. The day's journey bad brought 
us to the foot of a rapid, which convinced us that the term " Dead River," 
was much misapplied. The night was spent, not upon feathers, but on the 
branches of the fir or the spruce. It would astonish you, my de.ir children, 
if there was leisure to explain the many comforts and advantages those 
trees afford to the way-worn traveler. 

In a few da3's, October 7th, we came to a succession of ponds at the head of 
Dead River, and in some cases the communication being shallow we were 
obliged to carry our canoes from one to the other. My wardrobe -was light 
«nd scanty, and as winter was approaching I suffered from the piercing cold. 
About three p. M. the next day, we reached the extreme end of the fifth 
and last lake, where we obtained a full view of those hills which were then, 
and are now, called the " Height of Land." It made an impre.'^siori upon 
US, that was really more chilling than the air wliich surrounded us. We 
hurried ashore — drew out our canoes, and covered them with leaves and 
brush-wood. This done, with our arms in our hands, and our provision in 
our pockets, we made a race across the mountain, by an Indian path, easily 
ascertainable, until we arrived on the hank of the Chaudiere River. The 
distance is about five miles, counting the rising and descent of the hill as 
two. This was the acme of our desires. To discover and know the course 
of this river, was the extent of our orders : bej'ond it, we had nothing to 
-do. Our chief, wishing to do everything a good officer could to forward the 
sernce, asked if anj' one could climb a tree, around the foot of which we 
then stood ? It was a pine of considerable height, without branches for forty 
foot; Robert Cunningham, a strong athletic man, about twenty-five years 
old, presented himself. In almost the twinkling of an eye he climbed the 
tree. He fully discerned the meandering course of the river, as upon a map, 
and even descried the lake Chaudiere, at the distance of fourteen or fifteen 
miles. The country around and between us and the lake was flat. Looking 
westward, he observed a smoke ; intimating this to us from the tree where 
he sat we plainly perceived it. Cunningham came down ; tlie sun was set- 
ting seemingly in a clear sky. 

Now our return commenced and rapidly we na in a single file, and it so 
happened that your father brought up the rear. Soon the rain began to pour 
in torrents, the night became dark as iiilch, and in crossing a ridge my foot 
caught in a root or a twig, and I fell I know not how far, perhaps twenty of 



OF AM 1:1; I CAN'S. 55 

thi.ty feet. Stunned by the fall, tliu others had got far ahead ere I rocov- 
erC'l mj'self. My arrival at the canoe place was delayed thereby until 
ten o'clock, an hour and a half after my companions, who had erected a 
wigwam of poles covered by branches of fir. Sleep came to my eyes, not- 
with.standing the drippings of the pelting storm through the humble roof. 

Wo arose before day. The canoes were urged suddenly into the water ; it 
still rained hard, and at daylight we thought of breakfasting. Gracious 
God 1 what was our fare ? What could we produce for such a feast ? Rum- 
maging ray breeches pockets, I found a solitary biscuit and an inch of pork. 
Half of the biscuit was devoted to the breakfast, and so also by each person, 
and that w;u; consumed in the canoes as we paddled over the lake. The 
rain had raised the lake, and consequently the outlets about four feet. Wo 
slided glibly along, over passages where a few days previously, we had toted 
cur canoes. At the outlet of the fourth hike, counting as we came up, a 
small duck appeared within shooting distance. It was a diver, well known 
ill our country — a thing which we here contemn. Knowing the value of 
animal food, in our predicament, several of us fired at the diver. Jesse 
Wheeler, however (who all acknowledged as an excellent shot), struck it 
with his ball. A shout of joy arose— the little diver was safely deposited 
• in our canoe. We went ou quickl}-, without accident, till the evening, prob- 
'ably traversing a space of more than forty miles. At night-fall we halted, 
weary and without tasting food since morning. Boyd and Cunningham, who 
were right-hand-men ou most occasions, soon kindled a fire against a fallen 
tree. The cooks, according to routine, picked the duck, and when picked 
and gutted, it was brought to the fireside. Here it became a question, how 
to make the most of our stock of provisions. Finally, it was concluded to 
boil the duck in our camp-kettle, together with each man's bit of pork, dis- 
tinctively marked by running a small skewer of wood through it, with his 
particular and private designation ; that the broth thus formed, should be 
the supper, and the duck on the ensuing morning should be the breakfast, 
and which should be distributed by "whose shall be this?" Strange as this 
tale may appear to you, in these times, the agreement was religiously per- 
formed. Being young, my appetite was ravenous as that of a wolf, but 
honor bound the stomach tightly. We rose earlj-, and each person selected 
his bit of pork, which made but a single mouthful ; — there was no contro- 
ver.-iv. The diver was parted most fairly, into ten shares, each one eyeing 
the integrity of the division. Setting out early, by the evening we made 
nearly fifty miles. The bit of pork and the rest of the biscuit became my 
supper. My colleagues were similarly situated. The morning .sun saw u3 
without any food. We did not despond. The consolatory idea, that on that, 
or the next day, we should certainly join the army, infused energy into our 
minds and bodice. The succeeding morning (11th), starting early, we ran 
at a monstrous rate. The water.s, by additional rains above, had risen 
greatly. After some time, the light canoe, several hundred yards before us, 
(with Steele and Getchel in it), passed between the forks of a tree, which 
lay rooted in the middle of the stream, where most likely it had lain for 
many years. Seeing our friends pass through safely, and being unconscious 
that we were worse or less adventurous watermen than they were, we risked 
t. Wo ran with great velocity. My good Irishman steered. By an un- 



56 ADVENTURES AST) ACrilEVEMENTS 

luclcy stroke, one of the prongs of the tree took tlie right h:.nd side of the 
canoe, within six inches of the bow, immediately below the gunwale. 
Quick as lightning that side of the canoe was laid open from stem to stern, 
and water was gushing in upon us, which would inevitably have sunk us in 
a second of time, but for that interference of Providence, which is atheisti- 
cally called presence of mind, otherwise a host of men could not have saved 
us from a watery grave. Instinctively leaning to the left, we sunk the gun- 
wale of that side down to the water's edge, by which we raised the broken 
side an inch or more out of it. Calling loudh' to our companions ahead, 
they soon saw our distress and put in. Carefull}' and steadily sitting, and 
gently paddling many hundred yards, we landed safeh'. Our situation was 
truly horrible. When we had examined the broken canoe, and had rum- 
maged both for the means of mending it, every heart seemed dismayed. 
Our birch-bark and pitch, had been exhausted in former repairs, — we w-ere 
without food, — perhaps one hundred miles from the army, or perhaps that 
army had returned to New England. That sensation of tho mind called 
" the horrors," seemed to prevail. Getchel alone was really sedate and re- 
flective. He ordered the other guide to search for birch-bark, whilst he 
would look among the pines for turpentine. We followed the one or the 
other of these worthies, according to our inclinations, and soon returned 
with those desirable materials. The cedar root was in plenty under our 
feet. Now a difficulty occurred, which had been unforeseen, and which was 
seemingly destructive of all hope. This was the want of fat or oil of every 
kind, with which to make the turpentine into pitch. A lucky thought oc- 
curred to the youngest of the company, that the pork bag, lay empty and 
neglected, in one of the canoes. The thought and the act of bringing it 
were instantaneous. The bag was ripped, and as if it had been so much gold 
dust, we scraped from it about a pint of dirty fat. Getchel now jirepared 
an abundance of pitch. The ced.ar root gave us twine. The canoe was 
brought up to the fire. We found every rib except a few at the extreme 
points, actually torn from the gunwale. All hands set to work — two hours 
afterward, the canoe was borne to the water. 

We embarked, and proceeding cautionslj-, as we thought, along the shore, 
a snag, standing np stream, struck through the bottom of the canoe. It took 
an hour to patch the gap. The cup of sorrow was not yet full. As the men 
were bearing the wounded canoe to the water, sergeant Boyd who jiaddled 
in the small canoe, which was drawn up as usual, taking hold of the bow 
raised it waist high (as was right) intending to slide it gently into the 
water — the bank was steep and slippery : Mr. Boyd's feet slipped — the canoe 
fell from his hiinds — its own weight falling upon the cavity, formed by the 
declivity of the bank and the water — broke it in the center, into two pieces, 
and which were held together by nothing but the gunwales. Now absolute 
despair for the first time seized me. A thought came across my mind, that 
the Almighty had destined us to die of hunger, in this inhospitable wilder- 
ness. The recollection of my parents, my brothers and sister, and the clan- 
destine and cruel manner of my deserting them, drew from me some hidden, 
yet burning tears, and much raent.'xl contrition. Getchel thoughtful and 
active, instantly went to work. The canoe w^as brought to the fire, and 
placed in a proper posture for the operation. The lacerated parts were neatly 



OF AMERICANS. 57 

brou;;ht together, and sewed willi cedar root. A largo ridge of pitch, as is 
customary in the con.struction of this kind of water-craft, was hiid over the 
seam to make it water-tiglit. Over the seam a patch of strong bark a foot 
in width, and of a length sufficient to encircle the bottom, even to the gun- 
wales, was sewed down at the edges and pitched. Again, over the whole 
of the work, it was thought prudent to place our pork bag, which was «ell 
saturated with liquid fat. It was a full yard wide, and was laid down in 
the same manner. This work, which was laborious, nearly consumed the 
rest of the day. 

We set out notwithstanding the lateness of the hour. Hunger drove us 
along at a cautious but rapid rate. About dusk the lieutenant's canoe, four 
hundred yards before us, had within view turned a sharp point of land, 
when we heard the crack of a ritie, and presently another, and a huzza. 
Apprehending an attack from an enemy, we jiulled hard to be enabled to 
sustain our friends. In a moment or two, observing them pulling for tlie 
nortli shore, which was steep, we looked up it for the enemy. Good Heav- 
ens ! what a sight ! We saw a moose-deer, falling on the top of the b.ank. 
jf , cry of exultation seemed to burst the narrow valley of the river. Steele 
fiad struck the deer in the flank, as it was leaving the water, but it sprung 
up the bank with agility. Wheeler, with better fortune for us all, pierced 
its heart as it arrived at the top. Seeing this you can scarcely imagine the 
celerity of our movements. We were ashore in a moment. A fire was 
kindled, the secondary guide cut off the nose and upper lip of the animal, 
instantly, and had it on the fire. What a feast! But we were prudent. 
We sat up all night, selecting the fat and tit-bits — frying, boiling, roasting 
and broiling, but carefully eating little at a time. Toward morning, we slept 
a few hours, absolutely careless of consequences. We knew that w-e had 
arrived in a land where game was plentiful, and where there were no foes 
superior to our number, to oppose us. The next day we shot a moose and 
a large gray wolf; and on the morning of the 13th arrived at our first camp- 
ing ground on the "Dead Paver," in good health and spirits ; though pallid 
and weak, for the want of substantial food in due quantity. 

By this time the fat aiul marrow of the animals we had killed were ex- 
hausted, and our stock of salt had been long since expended. One who has 
never been deprived of bread and salt, nor known the absence of oleaginous 
substances in his food, cannot make a true estimate of the invaluable benc- 
Cbs of such ingredients in the sustenation of the bodily frame ; nor of the 
extremity of our corporeal debility. 

It was immediately concluded to preserve our provisions b_v jerking or 
smoking. This ojieration is done by slicing the meat into thin strips ; then 
driving four forks into the earth, in a square position, at the required dis- 
tance perpendicularly, and laying poles from fork to fork, and jiolcs athwart 
from pole to pole. A rack is thus made, about four feet high, on whicli the. 
sliced meat is laid, and smoke-fires are made underneath ; this duty w:is 
soon performed. We now began to look about us, and discuss the subject 
of our return to the army, which we had, before tliis time, persuaded our- 
selves we should meet at this place. The non-iqijiearance of the army and 
our distress, induced a conclusion that we were deserted, and aliandonerl to 
a disastrous fate, the inevitable result of which would be, a sinking intA 



53 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

eternity for the want of food, for though we miyht have killed more deer, 
the vigor of our bodies was so reduced, that wo were convinced that that 
kind of food could not restore us to our wonted energy, and enable us to 
perform so rugged and long a march, as that to the frontiers of Maine. The 
notion of navigating the river was scouted as a fallacy, because we did not 
possess a sufficient degree cf bodily force to bear the canoes across the 
twelve-mile carrying-place. As, in the case of the retreat of the army, we 
had determined to follow, it became requisite to finish the jerking, which 
woulil take six daj-s, to make it the more portable, for our feebleness, and 
preservable if we should have wet weather on the march. It was further 
concluded, "that Lieutenant Steele, Getohel and Wheeler, should immedi- 
ately proceed on foot across the twelve-mile carrying-place, to meet the army : 
if they did meet it, that they should return to us with supplies by the end 
of three days, but in all events to return." 

Now we experienced the full extent of a new species of starving. Hav- 
ing neither bread, nor salt, nor fat of any kind, every day we remained here 
we became more and more weak and emaciated. We had plenty of meat, 
both fresh and dried, of which we ate four, five and six times a day, in 
every shape we bad tlie means of dressing it. Though we gorged the 
stomach, the appetite was unsatiated. Something like a diarrhea ensued, 
which contributed to the imbecility of our bodies. Bears-oil would have 
made our venison savory, but sucli an animal as a bear w-e had as yet not 
seen in all our wanderings. On the evening of the fourth d.iy, we looked 
out for our absent companions with much heartfelt auxiety. Thej' came 
not. In the morning of the next day, we consulted upon the question 
whether we should follow the army. A majority voted for staying a fe'w 
days longer to complete the jerking. To show you the great bodily weak- 
ness wo were brought to, it may be proper to relate the following anecdote iis 
more evincive of the fact, than any other method which might be adopted, 
to bring it fully to your minds. Sergeant Boyd (the strongest and stout- 
est man of the party, and perhaps of the army) and myself, taking our 
arms, started on in hopes of meeting the advance of the army. We stag- 
gered along through the plain, falling every now and then, if our toes but 
touched a twig or tuft of grass. Thus going forward, we arrived at the edge 
of a moss-bog. Here my worthy friend Boyd, unable to proceed, sunk down 
upon a log. My seat, in tears of excruciating grief, was taken beside him, 
endeavoring to infuse comfort and courage into bis manly mind — it was in 
vain. The debility of his body had disarmed his courageous souk Every 
art in my power was exercised to induce him to pass the bog — he would not 
listen to me on that subject. Melancholy of the desperate kind oppressed me. 
Convinced that the army had retreated, a prognostication resulted in my 
mind, that we should all die of mere debility in these wilds. We sat here an 
hour. At length we agreed to return to pur camp, though it was yet early in 
the afternoon. Our companions were jileased to see us, thinking our coming 
so soon indicated good news, but a gloom of desperation followed. As a 
last effort to save our lives, wo all agreed to pass the river the next morning 
and follow the army, wliich we were now assured had returned to Fort 
Western. Each one put into his knapsack, as much of our mawkish food, 
as he could conveniently carry. 



OF AMERICAXS. 59 

Wo started early, the next day jiasscd the vivcr, and moved forward, as 
fa.st as our feoblo limbs would carry lis. When we came to the log where 
Royd had seated himself, we were filled with ecstatic joy to observe, on the 
far side of the boi,', a party of pioneers forming a causeway for the passage 
of the army. Our strength redoubled — we passed the bog with considerable 
speed. Our wan and haggard faces, and meager bodies, and the monstrous 
beards of m)' companions, who had neglected to carry a razor with them, 
seemed to strike a deep sorrow into the hearts of the pioneers. They gave 
us a little of their food ; but what exhilarated us more, was the information, 
that Major Febigcr with the advanced-guard, lay at the next pond. We 
urged forward as fast as we could. Arriving at his fire a little before my corn- 
puny, an incapacity to stand compelled me to sit. Febiger, in a hurried 
manner, asked w-ho we were? and from wlience we came? A few words 
explained the mystery and cause of our distress. A glistening tear stood iu 
this brave soldier's eye. As it were with a sudden and involuntary motion 
and much tenderness, he handed me his wooden canteen (which contained 
thdi' last spirits in the army); from mo it passed to Cunningham, who had 
just come up, the most ghastly and wayworn figure in nature; from him it 
went round to the rest, who arrived graduallj', but slowly. The heart of 
Febiger seemed overjoyed at the relief he had, and could affurd us. The 
liquor had restored our fainting spirits, but this was not enough for his gen- 
erosity to exhibit. He requested us to take seats around the fire, and wait 
'ho boiling of his kettle, which was well replenished with pork and dump- 
:ins. This was all devoted to our use, accompanied by an open heartedne.ss 
and the kindest expressions of interest for our sufi'erings, and regard for our 
perseverance in our duty as military men. This meal to all of us seemed a 
renewal of life. It was accustomed food. Oiu' more immediate and inti- 
mate friends were still beyond the pond, but coming forward. By and by, 
Morgan came, large, a commanding aspect, and stentorian voice. He wore 
leggins, and a cloth in the Indian style. His thighs, wdiicli were exposed 
to view, appeared to have been lacerated by the thorns and bushes. He 
knew our story from Steele and Wheeler, and greeted us kindly. We now- 
found ourselves at home, in the bosom of a society of brave men, with 
whom we were not onl}' willing, but anxious to meet the brunts of war. 
This was the twenty-sixth day we had been absent from the army. In the 
evening we resumed our statiiuis in our respective messes. 

We now turned our faces toward the north, and accompanied the army 
as a sort of guides in minute matters, fur the paths and carrying-places we 
had sufficiently developed for the ])ioneers to open a way. The next day 
we reached our old camping ground on Dead I'ivcr, where the three compa- 
■jies oi ritlemen, under Daniel Morgan, remained encamped for several days 
waiting for the arrival of tlie remainder of the troops. During our stay it 
pleased me to observe that Morgan adopted certain rules of discipline abso- 
lutely necessary to the state we wore in, but discordant with the wild and 
extravagant notions of our private men. 

At this place, Morgan had given it out in orders, that no one should fire. 
One Chamberlaine, a worthless fellow, who did not thiidc it worth while to 
draw his bullet, had gone some hundreds of yards into the woods, and dis- 
charged his gun. Lieut. Steele happened to be in that quarter at the time ;• 



60 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Steele had but arrived at the fire, where wo sat, when Morgan, who had seen 
him coming, approached our camp, and seated himself within our circle. 
Presently Charaberlaino came, gun in hand, and was passing our fire, toward 
that of his mess. Morgan called to the soldier — accused him as the de- 
faulter — this the man (.an arrant liar) denied. Morgan appealed to Steele. 
Steele admitted he heard the report, but knew not the party who discharged 
the gun. Morgan suddenly springing to a pile of billets, took one, and 
swore he would knock the accused down unless he confessed the fact. In- 
Btantly, Smith seized another billet, and swore he would strike j\Iorgan if ho 
struck the man. Morgan knowing the tenure of his rank, receded. Such 
were the rough-hewn characters, which in a few subsequent years, by energy 
of mind and activity of body, bore us safely through the dreadful storms 
of the revoUition. Morgan was of an impetuous temper, yet withal, prudent 
in war, as he was fearless of personal danger. His passions were quick and 
easily excited, but they were soon cooled. This observation is applicable 
to many men of great talents, and to none more than Morgan. His severity, 
at times, has made me shudder, though it was necessary, yet it would have 
been a pleasing trait in his character, if it had been less rigid. 

During our resting here, Arnold, accompanied by Steele and some excel- 
lent boatmen, proceeded to the head of the river. The rifle corps preceded 
the main body of the aniey, both by land and water. The boats, which 
were heavily laden with baggage and provisions, toolc in no more men than 
were necessary to navigate them, that is, three to a boat. The remainder 
of the army marched by laud, the river being generally the guide. 

After a week of intense labor and fatigue we reached the Chaudiere, Octo- 
ber 29th, and encamped on a plain on the river bank. Here we learned 
for the first time that Colonel Euos had basely deserted us. He turned back 
toward the New England settlements from the twelve-mile carrying-place, 
with five hundred men, a large stock of provisions, and the medicine chest. 
It danipied our spirits much, but our commander conceived it was better to 
proceed tlian return. We were about a hundred miles from the frontier of 
Canada, but treble that distance from that of New England. Our provisions 
were exhausted. We had no meat of any kind. The flour which remained, 
go far as I know, was divided fairly and equall}', among the whole of the 
troops, the riflemen shared five pints of flour per man. During the night 
and the ensuing morning, the flour was baked into five cakes per man, under 
the ashes, in the way of Indian bread. 

On the 30th of October, we set forward. The men were told by the 
officers " that order would not be required in the march, each one must put the 
best foot foremost." The first day's march was closed by a charming sleep 
on fir-branche.s. The gentlemen of our mess lay together, covering them- 
selves with the blankets of each one. My rnemorj' does not serve to say 
that any stir was made by any one during the night. Ilapjieiiing to be the 
first who awaited in the morning, tlie blanket was suddenly thrown from 
my head, but what was my surprise to find, that we had lain under a cover 
of at least four inches of snow. 

This morning, the first of November, we took up the line of march through 
a flat and boggy ground. About ten o'clock A. M. we arrived, by a narrow 
-neck of land at a marsh v/hich was appalling. It was three fourths of a 



OF AMERICANS. 61 

mile over, and covered by a coat of ice, lialf an inch tliick. Here Simpson 
concluded to halt a short time for the stragglers or maimed of IIciulriclv'B 
and Smith's companies to come up. There were two women attached to 
those companies, who arrived before we commenced the march. One was 
the vifo of Sergeant Grier, a large, virtuous and respectable woman. The 
other was the wife of a private of our companj-, a man who lagged upon 
every occasion. These women being arrived, it was presumed that all our 
party were up. We were on the point of entering the marsh, when some 
«ne cried out "Warner is not here." Another said he had "sat down sick 
under a tree, a few miles back." His wife begging us to wait r. short time, 
witli tears of aflection in her eyes, ran back to her husband. We tarried an 
hour. They camo noL Entering the pond, and breaking tlie ice here and 
there with tlio butts of our guns and feet, as occasion required, we wore soon 
waist deep in the mud and w'ater. As is generally the case with youths, it 
came to my mind, that a better path might be found than that of the more 
elderly guide. Attempting this, in a trice the water cooling my armpits, 
made me gladly return into the file. Now Mrs. Grier had got before me. 
My mind was humbled, yet astonished, at the exertions of this good woman. 
Her clothes more than waist high, she waded before me to the firm ground. 
No one so long as she was known to us, dared to intimate a disrespectful 
idea of her. Her husband, who was an excellent soldier, was on duty iu 
Hendricks' boat, which had proceeded to the discharge of the lake with 
Lieutenant M'Cleland. Arriving at firm ground, and waiting again for our 
companions, we then set off, and in a march of several miles, over a scrubby 
and flat plain, arrived at a river flowing from the east into the Chaudiere 
Lake, which we reached, and encamped at its outlet with a heterogeneous 
mass of the army. It was soon perceived, that the French term Chaudiere, 
was most aptly applied to the river below us. Indeed every part of it, which 
came under our view, until we arrived at the "first house," in Canada, might 
well be termed a caldron or boiler, which is the import of its French name. 
It is remarkable of this river, and which, to me, distinguishes it from all 
others I had seen, that for sixty or seventy miles, it is a continued rapid, 
without any apparent gap or passage, even for a canoe. Every boat we put 
into the river, was stove in one part or other of it. 

On the morning of the 2d of November, we set off from the Chaudiere 
Lake, and hungered, as to my own particular, almost to death. What with 
the supplies to ShaeCfer, and my own appetite, food of any kind, with me, 
had become a nonentity. My own suflerings, in the two succeeding marches, 
from particular causes, were more than ordinarily severe. My moccasins 
liad, many days since, been worn to shreds and cast aside : My shoes, though 
they had been well sewed and hitherto stuck together, now began to give 
way, and that in the very worst part (the upright seam in the heel). For 
one to save his life, must keep his .station in the rank — the moment that 
was lost, as nature and reason dictate, the following soldier assumed his 
place. Thus, once thrown out of the tile, the unfortunate wretch must 
await the passage of many men, until a chasm, toward the rear, happened 
to open fur his admission. Thi.i explanation wWl answer some questions 
which you might naturally put. Why did you not sew it ? Why did you 
not tie the shoe to your foot? If there had been awl, and thread, and 



62 ADVENTUKES AXD aCIIIEVEMEXTS 

strings at commanJ, which there were not, for the causes above stated, one 
dared not have done either, as the probable consequences would ensue, 
"death by hunger in a dreary wilderness." For man when thrown out of 
society is the most helpless of God's creatures. Hence you may form a 
conception of the intolerable labor of the march. Every step taken the heel 
of the foot slipped out of the shoe : to recover the position of the foot in 
the shoe, and at the same time to stride, was hard labor, and exhausted my 
strength to an unbearable degree. You must remember that this march was 
not performed on the level surface of the parade, but over precipitous hills, 
deep gulleys, and even without the path of the vagrant savage to guide us. 
Thus we proceeded till toward mid-day, the pale and meager looks of my 
companions, tottering on their feeble limbs, corresponding with my own. 
My friend Simpson, who saw my enfeebled condition and the cause, i^re- 
vailed with the men to rest themselves a few minutes. Bark, the only suo- 
cedaneum fur twine, or leather, in this miserable country, was immediately 
procured and the shoe bound tightly to the foot. Then marching hastilj", 
in the course of an hour or more, we came within view of a tremendous 
cataract in the river, from twelve to twenty feet high. The horror this sight 
gave us, fearing for the safety of our friends in the boats, was aggravated, 
when turning the point of a steep cragg, we met those very friends, having 
lost all but their lives, sitting around a fire on the shore. God ! what 
were our sensations ' Poor M'Cleland, first lieutenant of Hendricks' was 
lying at the fire ; he beckoned to us — his voice was not audible, placing my 
ear close to his lips, the word he uttered, scarceh' articulate, was, "Fare- 
well." Simpson, who loved him, gave him half of the pittance of food 
which he still possessed ; all I could was — a tear. Coming to a long sandy 
beach of the Chaudiere, for we .sometimes had such, some men of our com- 
pany were observed to dart from the file, and with their nails, tear out of 
the sand, roots which they esteemed eatable, and ate them raw, even with- 
out w'ashing. Languid and woe-begone, as your father was, it could not but 
create a smile, to observe the whole line watching with "Argus eyes," the 
motions of a few men, who knew the indications in the sand of those roots. 
The knowing one sprung, half a dozen followed, he who grabbed it, eat the 
root instantly. Though hunger urged, it was far from me to contend in that 
way with powerful men, such as those were. Strokes often occurred. 

During this day's march (about ten or eleven, A. M.), my shoe having 
given away again, we came to a fire, where were some of Captain Thayer, or 
Topham's men. Simpson was in front, trudging after, slipshod and tired, I 
sat down on the end of a long log, against which the fire was built, absolutely 
fainting with hunger and fatigue, my gun standing between my knoes. Seat- 
ing myself, that very act gave a cast to the kettle, which was placed partly 
against the log, in such a way, as to spill two-thirds of its contents. At the 
moment a large man sprung to his gun, and pointing it toward me, he threa- 
tened to shoot. It created no fear ; his life was with much more certainty 
in my power. Death would have been a welcome visitor. Simpson soon 
made us friends. Coming to their fire, they gave me a cuii of their broth. 
A table-spoonful was all that was tasted. It had a greenish hue, and was 
said to be that of a bear. This was instantly known to be untrue, from the 
taste and smell. It was that of a dog. He was a largo black Newfoundland 



OF AMERICxVNS. 63 

(log, belonging to Thayer, ami very fat. We left these nierr}- fellows, for 
they were actually such, mauger all their wants, and marcliiiig quickly, to- 
ward evening encamped. We had a good fire, but no food. To me tho 
world had lost its charms. Gladly would death have been received as an 
auspicious herald from the Divinity. My privations in every way, were 
such as to produce a willingness to die. Without food, without clothing, 
to keep me w-arm, without monej', and in a deep and devious wilderness, 
the idea occurred, and the means were in my hands, of ending existence. 
The God of all goodness in.spired other thoughts. One principal cause of 
change (under the fostering hand of Providence) in my sentiments, was the 
jovial hilarit}- of my friend Simpson. At night, warming our bodies at an 
immense fire, our compatriots joined promiscuously around — to animate the 
company, he would sing " Plato ;" his sonorous voice gave spirit to my heart, 
and the morality of tho song, consolation to mj- mind. In truth, the music, 
though not so correct as that of Handel, added strength and vigor to our 
nerves. This evening it was, that some of our companions, whose stomachs 
had not received food, for the last forty-eight hours, adojited the notion, 
that leather, though it had been manufactured, might be made palatable 
food, and would gratify the appetite. Observing their discourse, to me the 
experiment became a matter of curiosity. They washed their moccasins of 
mooseskin, iu the first place, in the river, scraping away the dirt and sand, 
with great care. These were brought to the kettle and boiled a considerable 
time, under the vague, but consolatory hope, that a mucilage would take 
place. The boiling over, the poor fellows chewed the leather, but it was 
leather still : not to be macerated. My teeth, though young and good, suc- 
ceeded no better. Disconsolate and weary, we passed the night. 

November 3d. We arose early, hunger impelling, and marched rapidly. 
After noon, on a point on the bank of the river, some one protended ho de- 
scried the "first house," ten miles off. Not long after another discerned a 
boat coming toward lis, and turning a point of land — presently, all perceived 
cattle driving up the shore. These circumstances, gave occasion to a feeble 
huzza of joy, from those who saw these cheerful and enlivening sights. We 
were now treading a wide and stony beach of the river. Smith, our captain 
who at this moment happened to be in company, elated with the prospect 
of a supply of food, in the joy of his heart, perhaps thoughtlessly, said to 
me, "take this llenry." It was gladly received. Opening the paper, which 
had been neatly folded, there ajiijcared a hand's breadth and length of bacon- 
fat, of an inch thick ; thoughtlessly, it was eaten greedily, inattentive to all 
former rule, and thanks to God, did me no harm. 

Here it was that for the first time, Aahon Hukk, a most amiable youth of 
twenty, came to my view. He then was a cadet. It will require a most 
cogent evidence, to convince my mind, ihat he over intended any ill to his 
country of late years, by his various speculations. Though dill'ering in polit- 
ical opinion from him, no reason has yet been laid before me, to induce a 
belief, that he was traitorous to his country. 

Wc marched as hastily as our wearied and feeble limbs could admit, 
hoping soon to share in something like an Abyssinian feast. The curvatures 
of the river, had deceived us in the calculation of distance. It was many 
hours ere we came to the phice of slaughter. We found a fire, but no pro- 



g4 DVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENfTS 

vision, except a small quantity of oaten meal, resembling in grit our chop- 
ped rye. Simpson warmed some of this in water, and ate with gusto. To 
me it was nauseous : this may have been owing to the luncheon from Smith's 
toard. The French men told us, that those who preceded, had devoured 
the very entrails of the cattle. One of the eastern men, as we came to the 
fire, was gorging the last bit of the colon, half rinsed — half broiled. It may 
be said, he ate with pleasure, as he tore it as a hungry dog would tear a 
haunch of meat. We soon encamped for the night, cheered by the hope of 
succor. 

November 4th. About two o'clock, p. M., we arrived at a large stream 
coming from the east, which we ran through, though more than mid-deep. 
This was the most chilling bath we had hitherto received : the weather was 
raw and cold. It was the seventeenth and the harshest of my birthdays. 
Within a few hundred yards of the river stood the "first house" in Canada: 
we approached it in ecataoy, sure of being relieved from death by tlie means 
of famine. 

Many of our compatriots were unaware of that death which arises from 
sudden repletion. The active spirit of Arnold, with such able assistants as 
John M. Taylor and Steele, had laid in a great stock of provisions. The 
men were furious, voracious, and insatiable. Three starvations had taught 
me wisdom. My friends took my advice. But, notwithstanding the irre- 
fragable arguments the officers used to insure moderation, the men were out- 
rageous upon the subject ; they had no comprehension of such reasoning. 

Araongthese was one of our company, a good and orderly soldier, who, 
from my affection toward him, I watched like another doctor Pedro Po.si- 
tive ; yet all representation and reasoning on my part, had no influence. 
Boiled beef, hot bread, potatoes, boiled and roasted, were gormandized with- 
out stint. He seemed to defy death, for the mere enjoyment of present 
gratification, and died two days after. Many of the men sickened. If not 
much mistaken, we lost three of our company, by their imprudence on this 
occasion. The immediate extension of the stomach by food, after a lengthy 
fast, operates a more sudden extinction of life, than the total absence of 
aliment. 

At this place, wc for the first time had the pleasure of seeing the worthy 
and respectable Indian, Natanis, and his brother Sabatis, with some others 
of their tribe (the Abenaquis) : he, his brother Sabatis, and seventeen other 
Indians, the nephews and friends of Natanis, marched with us to Quebec, 
and were in the attack of that place, on the morning of the first of Jan- 
uary following. This is the first instance in the course of our revolutionary 
war, of the employment of Indians in actual warfare against our enemies. 
To bo sure, it was the act of a junior commander, unwarranted, so' far as has 
come to ray knowledge, by the orders of his superiors ; yet it seemed to 
authorize, in a small degree, upon the part of our opponents, tliat horrible 
system of aggression, which in a short time ensued, and astonished and dis" 
gusted the civilized world. 

Our severest personal sufferings for want of food were over. The march 
through the wilderness to this point had been dreadful ; one day when near 
the head of the Chaudiere, a mountain putting into that stream compelled 
US to pass the margin upon a log, which had been brought there by a freshet. 



OF AMERICAXS. GS 

The bark mul limbs of the tree bad been worn away by tbc rubbings of the 
ice, and the trunk lay lengthwise along tlio narrow passage, smooth and slip- 
pery, and gorged the pass. Tliis difficulty had collected here a heteroge- 
neous mass of the troops, who claimed the right of passage according to the 
order of coming to it. The log was to be footed, or the water, of the depth 
of three or four feet, must be waded. There was no alternative. An eastern 
man, bare-footed, bare-headed, and thinly clad, loan and wretched from ab- 
stinence, with his musket in hand, passed the log immediately before me. 
His foot slipped, and he fell several feet into the water. We passed on re- 
gardless of his fate. Even his immediate friends and comrades, many of 
whom were on the log at the same moment, did not deign to lend him an 
assisting hand. Death stared us in the face. I gave him a sincere sigh at 
parting, for to lose my place in the file, might have been fatal. This pitiable 
being died in the wilderness. The hard fate of many others might be re- 
capitulated, but the dreadful tale of incidents, if truly told, would merely 
serve to lacerate the heart of pity, and harrow wp the feelings of the soul 
of benevolence. Tears many years since, have often wetted my cheeks, 
when recollecting the disasters of that unfortunate campaign, the memorable 
exit of my dearest friends, and of many worthy fellow-citizens, whose worth 
at this time is embalmed solel}- in the breasts of their surviving associates. 
Seven died sheerly from famine ; and many others by disorders arising from 
hard service in the w-ilderness. 

The morning of the 6th of November, we marched in straggling parties 
through a flat and rich country, sprinkled, it might be said, decorated, by 
many low houses, all white- washed, which appeared to be tlie warm abodes 
of a contented people. Every now and then, a chapel came in sight ; but 
more frequently the rude, but pious imitations of the sullurings of our 
Saviour, and the image of the Virgin. These things created surprise, at 
least in my mind, for where I thought there could be little other than bar- 
barity, we found civilized men, in a comfortable state, enjoying all the ben- 
efits arising from the institutions of civil society. 

About noon of the next day, we arrived at the quarters of Arnold, a sta- 
tion he had taken for the purpose of hailing and embodying the whole of 
our emaciated and straggling troops. We were now perhaps thirty miles 
from point Levi ; which is on the St. Lawrence, and nearly opposite to Que- 
bec. Here we found our friend Taylor, at a slaughter house worried almost 
to death, in dealing out the sustenance of life to others. Without hyperbole 
or circumlocution, he gave us as many pounds of beef-steak as we chose to 
carry. Proceeding to the next house, a mile below, some one of the party 
became cook. Good bread and potatoes, with the accompaniment of beef- 
steak, produced a savory meal. Believing myself out of danger from any 
extraordinary indulgence of appetite, the due quantity was exceeded, and 
yet, believe me, it was not more than an anchorite might religiously take. 
We soon became sensible of this act of imprudence. The march of the 
afternoon was a dull atid heavy one. A fever attacked me. I became ac- 
cording to my feelings, the most miserable of human beings. The evening 
brought me no comfort, though we slept warmly in a farm house. 

November 7th. The army now formed into more regular and compact 
order, in the morning pretty early wo proceeded. About noon my disorder 



G6 ADVEXTUIIES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

had increased so intolerably, that I could not put a foot forward. Seating 
mj-self upon a log at the way-side, the troops passed on. In the rear came 
Arnold on horseback. He knew my name and character, and good naturedly 
inquired after my health. Being informed, he dismounted, ran down to the 
river side, and hailed the owner of the house, which stood opposite across 
the water. The good Canadian, in his canoe, quickly arrived. Depositing 
my gun and accoutrements in the hands of one of our men, who attended 
upon me, and had been disarmed by losing his rifle in some one of ibn 
wreckings above, and Arnold putting two silver dollars into my hands, thn 
Frenchman carried me to his house. Going to bed with a high fever upon 
me, I lay all this and the following day without tasting food. That had 
been the cause of the disease, its absence became the cure. 

The morning of the third day (10th November), brought me health. Tha 
mistress of the house, who had been very attentive and kind, asked me to 
breakfast. This humble, but generous meal, consisted of a bowl of milk, 
for the guest, with exc^jlleut bread. The fare of the family was this same 
bread, garlic, and salt — I had observed, that this was the usual morning's 
diet, for I lay in the stove-room, where the family ate and slept. This 
worthy family was composed of seven persons ; the parents in the prime of 
life, and five charming ruddy children, all neatly and warmly clothed in 
woolen, apparently of their own manufactory. You might suppose, from 
the manner of their living, that these persons were poor. No such thing. 
They were in good circumstances. Their house, barn, stabling, etc., were 
warm and comfortable, and their diet such as is universal among the French 
peasantry of Canada. Proffering my two dollars to this honest man, he re- 
jected them with something like disdain in his countenance, intimating to 
me that he had merely obeyed the dictates of religion and humanitj'. Tears 
filled nij' eyes v,-heu I took my leave of these amiable peojile. But they 
had not even yet done enough for me. The father insisted on attending me 
to the ferry some miles off, where the river takes a turn almost due uortb, 
to nicet the St. Lawrence. Here my worthy host procured me a passage 
scot free, observirig to me my money might be required before the army 
could be overtaken. Landing on the north bank of the river, the way could 
not be mistaken, the track of the army had strongly marked the rout. To 
me it was a most gloomy and solitary march. Not a soul was to be seen in 
tho course of ten miles. Here and there was a farm-house, but the inhab- 
itants were either closely housed or absent from their homes. Afternoon, 
arriving at the quarters of our con)p;uiy, my gun and accoutrements were 
reclaimed with ardor. 

Having arrived at Point Livi we crossed the St. Lawrence in boats on the 
night of the 13th of November and landed at Wolf's Cove. 

November 11th. The troops easily ascended the hill, by a good road cut 
in it slantingly. This was not the case in 1759, when tlie immortal Wolf 
mounted here — it was then a steep declivity, enfiladed b}' a host of savages. 

November lotli. Arriving on the brow of the precipice, we fonnd our- 
selves on the Plains of Abraham, so deservedly famous in story. Tlie morn- 
ing was cold, and we were thinly clad. While an adventurous party dis- 
jjutched by Arnold, under the command of one of Morgan's lieutenanus, 
were examining tlie walls of the cily, we were pacing the iilains to and fro, 



OF AMERICANS. 07 

in silence, to keep ourselves warm. The winter had set in — a cold north- 
wester blew with uncommon keenness. Bv the time the reconnoitering party 
returned, daylight was not very distant. The party found everything toward 
the city in a state of perfect quietness. This report was delivered, in my 
presence, to Moi'gan, however the contrary may have been represented 
since. Not even tho cry of " All's well" was uttered, was a part of their 
jeport, yet we heard that cry from the walls, even where we were ; but this 
in a direct line, was nearer to us than the voices opposite to the party. Tliis 
was the happy moment, but with our small and di.sjointed force, what could 
be done ? There was scarcely more than three hundred and fifty men, will- 
ing and determined to be sure, but too few to assail a fortress such as Que- 
bec is. If that had been known this night, which was evidenced in a few 
days by the fugitives from the city, Arnold would most assuredly have haz- 
arded an attack. St. John's Gate, which opens on Abraham's Plains, and is 
a most important station, was unbarred, nay, unclosed : nothing but a single 
cannon under the care of a drowsy watch, was there as a defense ; we were 
not a mile distant, and might have entered unknown, and even unseen. 
These are uncertain opinions, resting on the vague reports of the moment, 
which might have been true, or untrue. My memory is, however, fresh in 
the recollection of the heart-burnings this failure caused among us. Pro\- 
idcnce, for wise purposes, would have it otherwise. Near daylight, requir- 
ing rest and refreshment, the trooiis moved a mile, to a fami-house of Lieu- 
tenant Governor Caldwell's. This was a great pile of wooden buildings, 
with numerous outhouses, which testified tho agricultural spirit and taste of 
tho owner. He, good soul, was then snug in Quebec. 

The next day, Arnold had the boldness, you might say tlie audacity, or 
still more correctly, the folly, to draw us up in a line, in front and opposite 
to the wall of the citj'. The parapet was lined by hundreds of gaping citi- 
zens and soldiers, whom our guns could not harm, because of the distance. 
They gave us a huzza ! We returned it, and remained a considerable time 
huzzaing, and spending our powder against the walls, for we harmed no 
one. In some minutes a thirty-six pounder was let loose upon us ; but so 
ill was the gun pointed, that the ball fell short, or passed high over our 
heads. Another, and another succeeded — to these salutes, we gave them 
all we could, another and another huzza. It must be confessed, that this 
ridiculous affair gave me a contemptible opinion of Arnold. This notion 
was by no means singular. Morgan, Febigcr and other ofiBcers, who had 
seen service, did not hesitate to speak of it in that point of view. However, 
Arnold had a vain desire to gratify, of which we were then ignorant. Hu 
was well known at Quebec. Formerly, he had traded from this port to the 
West Indies, most particularly in the article of horses. Hence, he was de- 
spised by the principal people. The epithet "horse jockey," was freely and 
universally bestowed upon him, by the British. Having now obtained 
power, he became anxious to display it in the faces of those v.ho h.ad for- 
merly despised and contemned him. The venerable Sir Guy Carleton, an 
Irishman of a most amiable and mild character. Colonel Maclean, a Scotch- 
man, old in warfare, would not, in any shape, communicate with him. If 
Montgomery had originally been our commander, matters might have been 
more civilly conducted. 
5 



63 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Many of our wisest men, ".vithin the colonies, wrote and spoke of this bra- 
Tading, as a matter of moment, and with much applause. Even some of 
our historians (Gordon) have given it celebrity. But a more silly and boast- 
ful British historian (Amwell) says there was a dreadful cannonade, by 
which many of the rebels were destroyed. The truth is, that this day not 
a drop of blood was shed, but that of Governor Caldwell's horned cattle, 
hogs and poultry, which run plentifully. After this victory in huzzaing, 
which was boys' play, and suited me to a hair, we returned to quarters to 
liavtake of the good things of this world. 

The next day (November 15th), a scene of a different kind opened, which 
let us into the true character of Arnold. In the wilderness, the men had 
been stinted to a pint of flour by the day. This scanty allowance of flour 
had been continued since we had come into this plentiful ciuntry. Morgan, 
Hendricks and Smiih, waited upon the commander-in-chief, to represent the 
grievance and obtain redress. Altercation and warm language took place. 
Smith, with his usual loquacity, told us, that Morgan seemed, at one time, 
upon the point of striking Arnold. We fared the better for this interview. 

On the following day (November 16th), the rifle-companies removed fur- 
ther from the citjv About half a mile from Caldwell's house, our company 
obtained excellent quarters, in the house of a French gentleman, who seemed 
wealthy. Ho was pleasing in his manners, but the rudeness our ungovern- 
able men exhibited, created in him an apparent disgust toward us. Here we 
remained near a week. 

November 18th. Not being fully in the secret, it does not become me to 
recount the causes of our retreat, to Point Aux Tremble, which is at the 
distance of twenty or more miles from Quebec. The route thither, though 
in a severe winter, was interesting. The woods were leafless, except as to 
those trees of the fir-kind ; but numerous neat and handsomely situated 
farm-houses, and many beautiful landscapes were presented, and enlivened 
our march along this majestic stream. 

Ascending the river at a distance of ton or fifteen miles, we observed the 
rapid jjassage, down stream, of a boat, and soon afterward of a ship, one or 
other of which contained the person of Sir Guy Carleton. That it was the 
governor of the province, flying from Montgomery, who had by this time 
captured Montreal, wo were informed by a special kind of messenger, which 
was no other than the report of the cannon, by way of feu-dc-joie, upon 
his arrival at the capital. Point Aux Tremble, at this time, had assumed 
the appearance of a straggling village. There was a spacious chapel, where 
the ceremonies of the Roman Catholic religion were performed, with a pomp 
not seen in our churches, but by a fervency and zeal apparently very pious, 
which became a severe and additional stroke at early prejudices. Quarters 
were obtained in the village and farm-houses, disj^ersed over a space of some 
miles, up and down the river. We enjoyed as much comfort as tight houses, 
warm fires, and our scantiness of clothing would admit. Provisions wore in 
plenty, and particularly beef, which, though small in bulk, was of an excel- 
lent flavor. Being in a few days, as it were, domesticated iu a respectable 
farmer's house, we now had leisure to observe the economy of the family. 
Every crevice through which cold air could penetrate, w;is carefully pa.sted 
with strips of paper of every color. To permit the cold air to intrude is uot 



OF AMERICANS. 69 

the only evil wliicli results ; but the smallest interstice with the air, also 
admits an almost inipaljiable snow, which is very inconvenient, particularly 
at night, when the winds blow most sharply. A stove of iron stood a small 
space from the wall of the kitchen chimney, but in such a way that it might 
be encompassed by the family or the guests. This stove was kept contin- 
ually hot, both by day and by night Over the stove there is a rack so con- 
structed as to serve for the drying of wet clothes, moccasins, etc. When 
these people slaughter their beasts for winter use, thej' cut up the meat into 
small pieces, such as a half pound, two pounds, etc., according to the number 
of the family. In the evening before bedtime, the females of the house, 
prepare the dinner of the following day. It may be particularly described, 
as it was done in our view for a number of days together, and during the 
time was never varied. This was the manner : A piece of jiork or beef, or 
a portion of each kind, together with a sufliciency of cabbage, potatoes and 
turnips, seasoned with salt, and an adequate quantity of water, were put 
into a neat tin kettle with a close lid. The kettle, thus replenished, was 
placed on the stove in the room where we all slept, and there it simmered 
till the time of rising, when it was taken to a small fire in the kitchen, where 
a stewing continued till near noon, when they dined. The contents were 
teemed into a large bason. Each person had a plate — no knife was used, ex- 
cept one to cut the bread, but a five or six pronged fork answered the pur- 
poses of a spoon. The meat required no cutting, as it was reduced to a 
mucilage, or at least to shreds. This, you may say, is trifling information, 
and unworthy of your notice ; according to my mind, it is important to all 
of us, to know the habits, manners, and means of existence of that class of 
society, which, in all nations, comijoses the bulk and strength of the bod}' 
politic. Our dinner followed in a few hours. The manner of our cookery 
excited astonishment in our hosts. As much beef was consumed at a single 
meal, as would have served this family for a week. Kemcmber, however, 
that the mess consisted of persons who were entitled to double and treble 
rations. Two rosy-cheeked daughters of the house, soon contrived the means 
and obtained the surplus. This circumstance, most probably, made us agree- 
able to the family, for we had nothing else to bestow. The snow had now 
fallen in abundance, and enlivened the country. Sleighs and sleds were 
. passing in every direction. In December, J.anuary, and February, the snow 
lays in the country from three to five feet deep over the surface. 

On the first of December, General Montgomery, who w.as anxiously ex- 
pected, arrived with the main body of the army who had come on by the 
way of Charnplaine. Arnold's corps, was paraded in front of the chapeh It 
was lowering and cold, but the appearance of the general here, gave us 
warmth and animation. He was well limbed, tall and handsome, though his 
face was much pock-marked. Ills air and manner, designated the real sol- 
dier, lie m.ade us a short, but energetic and elegant speech, the burden of 
which was an applause of our spirit in passing the wilderness; a hope, our 
perseverance in that spirit would continue, and a promise of warm clothing ; 
the latter was a most comfortable assurance. A few huzzas from our freez- 
ing bodies were returned to the address of the gallant hero. Now new life 
was infused into the whole of the corps. 

The next day (December 2d), we retraced the route from Quebec. A snow 



70 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

had fallen during the night, aud continued falling. To march on this snow 
was a most fatiguing business. The evening brought up the riflemen at an 
extensive house, in the j'arish of St. Foix, about three miles from Quebec. 

The next day (December 3d), Morgan not finding himself comfortable, 
moved a short space nearer to the city. Here, in low and pretty country 
houses, he and his men, were neatly accommodated. It seemed to me, that 
the Canadians, in the vicinage of .Quebec, lived as comfortable, in general, 
as the generality of the Peniisylvanians did, at that time, in the county of 
Lancaster. 

December 12th. We remained about ten days at these quarters. The 
tours of dutj', to Arnold's party, were peculiarly severe. The officers and 
men, still wore nothing else, than the remains of the summer clothing, which 
being on their back, had escaped destruction in the disasters of the wilder- 
ness. The snow lay three feet deep over the face of the whole country, 
and there was an addition to it almost daily. Many impediments occurred, 
to delay the transportation of the clothing which General Montgomery 
had procured for us at Montreal. Our miserable state, contrary to our 
principles, excited an illicit desire, to be appareled more comfortably. This 
desire would probably have lain dormant, but for a scoundrel Canadian, 
who in all likelihood, was an enemy of Lieutenant Governor Cromie's. 
One morning having returned from a cold night's dnty, near palace gate, 
the fellow addressed Simpson, who was the only oflicer in quarters, and 
communicated the information. "That about two milcb up the St. La>v- 
rence, lay a country seat of Governor Cromie's, stocked with many things we 
wanted, and he would be our guide." Cariole's were immediately pro- 
cured. The house, a neat box, was romantically situated on the steep bank 
of the river, not very distant from a chapel. Though in the midst of win- 
ter, the spot displayed the elegant taste and abundant wealth of the owner. 
It must be a most delightful summer residence, in the months of July and 
August, when the heat of this northern climate, seems greater to sensation, 
than that of our country, in the same season. The house was closed ; 
knocking, the hall-door was opened to us by an Irishwoman, who, of the 
fair sex, was the largest and most brawny, that ever came under my notice. 
She was the stewardess of the house. Our questions were answered with an 
apparent affability and frankness. Slie introduced ns into the kitchen, a 
large apartment, well filled with those articles which good-livers think ne- 
cessaiy, to the happy enjoyment of life. Here we observed, five or six 
Canadian servants, huddled into a corner of the kitchen, trembling with fear. 
Our prying eyes, soon discovered a trap-door leading into the cellar. In the 
country houses of Canada, because of the frigidity of the climate, the cellars 
are usually under a warm room, and are principally intended, for the preser- 
vation of vegetables. The cavity in this instance, abounded with a great 
variety of eatables, of which we were not in the immediate want. The 
men entered it — firkin after firkin of butter; lard, tallow, beef, pork, fresh 
and salt — all became a prey. While the men were rummaging below, the 
lieutenant descended to cause more dispatch. My duty was to remain at 
the end of the trap-door, with my back to the wall, and rifle cocked as a 
sentry, keeping a strict eye on the servants. My good Irishwoman fre- 
quently beckoned *o me to descend : her drift was to catch, us all in the trap. 



OF AMKlllCAXS. 71 

Luckily sUo was comprelieudeJ. The cellar and kitchen being thoroughly 
gutted, and the spoil borue to the carriages, the party dispersed into the 
other apartments. Here was elegancy. The walls and partitions, wore 
beautifully papered and decorated, with largo engravings, maps, etc., of the 
most celebrated artists. 

Our attention was much more attracted by the costly feather beds, coun- 
terpanes, and charming rose-blankets, which the house afforded. Of these 
there was good store, and wo left not a joint behind us. The nooks and 
crevices in the carioles, were filled with smaller articles ; several dozens of 
admirably finished case-knives and forks — even a set of dessert knives ob- 
tained the notice of our cupidity. Articles of lesser moment, not a thou- 
sandth part so useful, did not escape the all-grasping hands of the soldiery. 
In a back apartment, there stood a mahogany couch, or settee in a highly 
finished style. The woodwork of the couch was raised on all sides by cush- 
ioning, and lastly, covered by a rich figured silk. This to us, was lumber : 
besides our carioles were full, ilowever, we grabbed the mattress and pal- 
lets, all equally elegant as the couch : Having, as W'j thought, divested his 
excellency of all the articles of prime necessity, we departed, ostensibly and 
even audibly accompanied by the pious blessings of the stewardess for oup 
moderation. No doubt she had her mental reservations ; on such business 
as this, we regarded neither. Near the cliapel, wo met a party of ilorgan's 
men coming to do that, which wo had already done. The officer ajipeared 
chagrined when be saw the extent of our plunder, lie went on, and finally 
ransacked the house, and yet a little more, the stables. The joj* of our men, 
among whom the plunder was distributed in nearly equal portions, was ex- 
travagant. Now an operation of the human mind, which often takes place 
in society, and is every day discernible by persons of observation, beoamo 
clearly obvious, "Let a man once with inipunit)-, desert the strict rule of 
right, every subsequent aggression not only increases in atrocity, but is done 
without qualm of conscience." Though our coniiiany was composed princi- 
pally of freeholders, or the sons of such, bred at homo under the strictures 
of religion and morality, yet when the reins of decorum were loosed, and 
the honorable feeling weakened, it became impossible to administer restraint. 
The person of a tory, or his property, became fair game, and this at the de- 
nunciation of some base domestic villain. 

With one more disreputable exjiloit, marauding ceased. A returning sense 
of d(Cency and ordei, emfnatiiig froia ouiselvei, pro luced a spicies jf coj- 
trition. It is a solemn truth, that wc plundered none, but those who were 
notoriously tories, and then within the walls of Quebec. The clergy, the 
nobles, and the peasantry, were respected and protected, especially the latter, 
with whom, to use a trite expression, we fraternized. 

December 15th. In a short time, the rille companies moved and occupied 
good quarters on the low grounds, near St. Charles' Kiver, and about two 
miles from Quebec. Our clothing w;is still of the flimsy kind, before noted, 
but our hearts were light, even to merriment. 

During all this time, our daily duty was laborious in various ways, and 
every other night, we mounted guard at St. Koque. A guard-house, ere this 
had been established at this place, in a very large stone-house, which, though 
strong, being exposed to the enemy's fire, was soon battered about our ears, 



72 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

the distance sciirccly more than three hiUKlred yards. That position was 
changed for one more secure. A house, which had been a tavern, was 
adopted in its stead. This house was peculiarly situated. It was compara- 
tively small with the former in its dimensions, but the walls were strong, 
and the ceilings bomb-proof. It stood under the hill, so as to be out of the 
range of the shot, from the ramparts contiguous to Palace Gate, which wa.s 
elevated far above us. Simpson would say, Jack, let us have a shot at those 
fellows. Even at noon-day, wo would creep along close to the houses, which 
ranged under the hill, but close in witli it, till we came within forty yards 
of Palace Gate. Here was a smith-shop, formed of logs, through the crev- 
ices, of which, we would fire, at an angle of 70°, at the sentries above us. 
Many of tlu'm were killed, and it was said, several oiScers. This was dis- 
honorable war, though authorized by the practices of those times. 

It is but fair and honest to relate to you an anecdote concerning myself, 
which will convey to your minds some notion of that affection of the head 
or heart which the military call a panic-terror. Being one of the guard and 
having been relieved as a sentry about tsvelve or one o'clock at night, upon 
returning to the guard-house, in a dozing state I cast myself on a bench, 
nest I he back v all — ynun;, i ly -.lee'js v/ere de^p .'md he.-ivy ; my youth 
obtained this grace from Simpson, the oflSoer who commanded ; about three 
o'clock, I was roused by a horrible noise. The enemy, in casting their 
shells, usually began in the evening, and threw but a few ; toward morning, 
they became more alert. Our station being out of sight, it was so managed, 
as to throw the shells on the side of the hill, directly back of us, so that they 
would trundle down against the wall of the guard-house. This had fre- 
quently occurred before, but was not minded. A thirteen inch shell, thus 
thrown, eame immediately opposite the place where my head lay ; to be 
sure, the three feet wall was between us. The bursting report was tremen- 
dous, but it was heard in a profound sleep. Starting instantly, though un- 
conscious of the cause, I run jirobably fifty yards, through untrod snow, 
three feet deep, to a coal-house, a place quite unknown to me before : It 
was ten or fifteen minutes before the extreme cold, restored that kind of 
sensibility, which enabled me to know ray real situation. Knowing nothing 
of the cause, the probable effect, nor anything of the consequences, which 
might follow from this involuntary exertion, it seemed to me to be a species 
of the panic, which has been known to affect whole armies. The circum- 
stance here related, caused a laugh against me ; but it was soon discovered, 
that those of the soldiery, though wide awake, were as much panic stricken 
as myself The laugh rebounded upon them. During this period, we had 
many bitter cold nights. 

On the night of the 20th, or 21st of December, a snow-storm, driving 
fiercely from the north-east, induced the noble Montgomery, to order an at- 
tack on the fortress. Our force altogether, did not amount to more than 
eleven hundred men, and many of these, by contrivances of their own, were 
in the hospital, which, by this time, was transferred to the nunnery. The 
storm abated — the moon shone, and we retired to repose, truly unwillingly. 
We had caught our commander's spirit, who was anxious, after the capture 
of Chamblee, St. Johns, and Montreal, to add Quebec, as a prime trophy to 
the laurels already won. Captain Smith, the head of our mess, as captain, 



OF AMEiaCANS. 73 

had been invited to General Montgomery's conncil of officers (noue uuder 
that grade being called), like most of uninstructed men, he was talkative, 
and what is much worse in military affairs, very communicative. I believe 
blushing followed the intelligence he gave me : the idea of impropriety of 
conduct in him, deeply impressed my mind. The whole plan of the attack 
on the two following days, was known to the meanest man iu the army. 
How it was disclosed, is uncertain, unless by the fatuity of the captains. One 
Singleton, a sergeant in the troops which accompanied Montgomery, deserted 
from the guard at the suburbs of St. John's, and disclosed to our foes the 
purport of our schemes ; his desertion caused much anxiety. The general 
prudently gave out that it was by command, he would return soon with in- 
telligence. This was believed generally. The latter information came to 
my knowledge some months afterward, when a prisoner. The relation of 
Smith to me, is perfect on my memory. Youth seldom forget their juvenile 
impressions. It was this: "That we, of Arnold's corps, accompanied by 
Captain Lang's York artillerists, should assail the lower town, on the side of 
St. Roque : General Montgomery was to attack the lower town by the way 
of Cape Diamond, which is on the margin of the St. Lawrence. A false 
attack was to be made eastwardly of St. Johns Gate. When Montgomery 
and Arnold conjoined in the lower town, then the priest.-;, the women and 
the children, were to be gathered and intermingled with the troops, and an 
assault be made on the upper town." Visionary as this mode of attack was, 
from what ensued, it is sincerely my belief that Smith was correct in his 
information, as to the plan suggested by the general. In those turbulent 
times, men of gallantry, such as Montgomery, were imperiously necessitated, 
to keep up their own fame and the spirits of the people, to propose and to 
hazard measures, even to the confines of imprudence. There was another 
circumstance which induced our brave and worthy general to adopt active 
and dangerous means of conquest. Many of the New England troops had 
been engaged on very short enlistments, some of which were to expire on 
the first of January, 1776. The patriotism of the summer of seventy-five, 
seemed almost extinguished in the winter of seventy-six. The patriotic 
officers m.ade every exertion to induce enlistments, but to no purpose. AVe, 
of the " ritie corps," readily assented to remain with the general, though he 
should be deserted by the eastern men, yet this example had no manner of 
influence on the generality. The majority were either farmers or sailorc, and 
some had wives and children at home. These, and other reasons, perhajw 
the austerity of the winter, and the harshness of the service, caused an ob- 
stinacy of mind, which would not submit to patriotic representation. Be- 
sides the smallpox, which had been introduced into our cantonments by the 
indecorous yet fascinating arts of the enemy, had already begun its ravages. 
This temper of the men was well known to the general. 

It was not until the night of the thirty-fir.st of December, one thousand 
seven hundred and seventy-five, that such kind of weather ensued as was 
considered favorable for the assault. The forepart of the night was admi- 
rably eidightened by a luminous moon. Many of us, officers as well as 
privates, had dispersed in various directions among the farm and tippling 
houses of the vicinity. We well knew the signal for rallyiiig. This was 
no other than a "snowstorm." About twelve o'clock r. m., the heaveu was 



74 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

overcast. We repaired to quarters. By two o'clock we were accoutrt 1 and 
began our march. The storm was outrageous, ami the cold wind extremely 
biting. In this northern country the snow is blown horizontally into the 
faces of travelers on most occasions— this was our case. 

Januarj' 1st. (1776). When we came to Craig's house, near Palace Gate, 
a horrible roar of cannon took place, and a ringing of all the bells of the 
city, which are very numerous, and of all sizes. Arnold, heading the for- 
lorn hope, advanced, perhaps, one hundred yards, before the main body. 
After these, followed Lamb's artillerists. Morgan's company, led in the 
secondary part of the column of infantry. Smith's followed, headed by 
Steele, the captain, from particular causes, being absent. Hendriek's com- 
pany .succeeded, and the eastern men, so far as known lo me, followed in 
due order. The snow was deeper than in the fields, because of the nature 
of the ground. The path made by Arnold, Lamb, and Morgan, was almost 
imperceptible, because of the falling snow : covering the locks of our guns, 
with the lajipets of our coats, holding down our heads (for it was impossible 
to bear up our faces, against the imperious storm of wind and snow), wu 
ran along the foot of the hill in single file. Along the first of our run, from 
Palace Gate, for several hundred paces, there stood a range of insulated 
buildings, which seemed to be store-houses ; we passed these quickly in sin- 
gle file, pretty wide apart. The interstices were from thirty to fifty yards. 
In these intervals, we received a tremefidons fire of musketry from the 
ramparts above us. Here wo lost some brave men, wheu powerless to return 
the salutes we received, as the enemy was covered by his impregnable de- 
fenses. They were even sightless to us, we could see nothing but the blaze 
from the muzzles of their muskets. 

We proceeded rapidly, e.xposed to a long line of fire from the garrison, for 
now we were unprotected by any buildings. The fire had slackened in a 
small degree. The enemy had been partly called oflf to resist Montgomery 
and strengthen the party opposed to Arnold in our front. Now we saw 
Colonel Arnold returning, wounded in the leg, and supported by two gentle- 
men, a parson Spring was one, and in my belief, a Mr. Ogden, the other. 
Arnold called to the troops, in a cheering voice, as we passed, urging us for- 
ward, yet it was observable among the soldiery, with whom it was my mis- 
ifortune to be now placed, that the colonel's retiring damped their spirits. 
A cant term "we are sold," was repeatedly heard in many parts throughout 
the line. Thus proceeding enfiladed by an animated but lessened fire, we 
came to the first barrier, where Arnold had been wounded in the onset. 
This contest had lasted but a few minutes, and was somewhat severe, but 
the energy of our men prevailed. The embrasures were entered when the 
enemy were discharging their guns. The guard, consisting of thirty persons, 
were either taken or tied, leaving their arms behind them. At this time, it 
was discovered that our guns were useless, because of the dampness. The 
snow, which lodged in our fleecy coats, was melted by the warmth of our 
bodies. Tbence came that disaster. Many of the party, knowing the cir- 
cumstance, threw aside their own, and seized the British arms. These were 
not only elegant, but were such, as befitted the hand of a real soldier. It 
was said, that ten thousand stand of such arms, had been received from 
England, in the previous summer for arming the Canadian militia. Those 



OF AMERICANS. 75 

people were loath to bear tliera in opposition to our rights. From the first 
Ixirrier to the second, there was a circular course along the sides of houses, 
!vnd partly throngh a street, probably of three hundred yards or more. This 
second barrier was erected across and near the mouth of a narrow street, 
adjacent to the foot of the hill, which operjcd into a larger street, lending 
into the main body of the lower town. Here it was, that the most serious 
contention took place : this became the bone of strife. The admirable 
Jlontgomery, by this time (thongh it was unknown to us), was no more; 
yet, we expected momentarily to join him. The firing on that side of the 
Vortress ceased, his division fell under the command of a Colonel Campbell, 
of the New York line, a worthless chiei', who retreated, without making an 
effort, in pursuance of the general's original plans. The inevitaljle conse- 
quence was, that the whole of the forces on tliat side of tlie city, and those 
who were opposed to the dastardly persons employed to make the false 
attacks, embodied and came down to oppose our division. Here was sharp- 
shooting. We were on the disadvantageous side of the barrier, for such a 
purpose. Confined in a narrow street, hardly more than twenty feet wide, 
aud on the lower ground, scarcely a ball, well aimed or otherwise, but must 
take efi'ect upon us. Morgan, Hendricks, Steele, Humphreys, and a crowd 
of every class of the army, had gathered into the narrow pass, attempting 
to surmount the barrier, which was about twelve or more feet liigh, and so 
strongly constructed that nothing but artillery could effectuate its destruc- 
tion. There was a construction, fifteen or twenty yards witliin tlie barrier, 
upon a rising ground, the cannon of which much overtoi)ped the lu-ight of 
the barrier, hence we were assailed by grape shot in abundance. This erec- 
tion we called the platform. Again, within the barrier, and close to it, wei-e 
two ranges of musketeers, armed with musket and bayonet, ready to receive 
those who might venture the dangerous leap. Add to all tliis, that the 
enemy occupied the upper chambers of the houses, in the interior of the 
barrier, on both sides of the street, from tlie windows of whicli wo became 
fair marks. The enemy, having the advantage of the ground in front, a 
vast superiority of numbers, dry and better arms, gave them an irresistible 
power, in so narrow space. Humphreys' upon a mound, which was .speedily 
erected, attended by many brave men, attempted to scale the barrier, but 
was compelled to retreat, by the formidable pl-.alanx of bayonets within, 
and the weight of fire, from the platform and the buildings. Morgan, brave 
to temerity, stormed and raj-ed ; Hendricks St-iele, J'icho's, H imphreys, 
equally brave, were sedate, though under a tremendous fire. The platform, 
which was within our view, was evacuated by the accuracy of our fire, and 
few-persons dared venture there again. Now it was, that the necessity of 
the occupancy of the houses, on our side of the barrier, became apparent. 
Orders were given hy Morgan, to that effect. We entered— this was near 
daylight. The houses were a shelter from wliich we could fire with much 
accuracy. Yet, even here, some valuable lives were lost. Hendricks, when 
aiming his rifle at some prominent person, died by a straggling ball through 
his heart. He staggered a few feet backwards, and fell upon a bed, where 
he instantly expired. He was an ornament of our little .society. The ami- 
able Humphreys died by a like kind of wound, but it w.as in the street, be- 
fr.-:e we entered the buildings. Many other brave men fell at this place , 



76 ADVENTURES AKD ACHIEVEMENTS 

among these were Lieutenant Cooper, of Connecticut, and perhaps nft}' or 
sixty non-commissioned officers, and privates. The wounded, were numer- 
ous, and many of them dangerously so. Captain Lamb, of the York artil- 
lerists, had nearly one half of his face carried away, by a grape or cannister 
shot. My friend Steele, lost three of his fingers, as he was presenting his 
gun to fire ; Captain Hubbard and Lieutenant Fisdle, were also among the 
wounded. 

When we reflect upon the whole of the dangers at this barricade, and the 
formidable force that came to "annoy us, it is a matter of surprise, that so 
many should escape death and wounding, as did. All hope of success 
having vanished, a retreat was contemplated, but hesitation, uncertainty, 
and a lassitude of niind, which generally takes place, in the affairs of men, 
when we fail in a project upon which we have attached much expectation, 
now followed. That moment was foolishly lost, when such a movement 
might have been made with tolerable success. Captain Laws, at the head 
of two hundred men, issuing from Palace Gate, most fairly and handsomely 
cooped us up. 

Of the enemy, many were killed and many more wounded, comparatively, 
than on our side, taking into view the disadvantages we labored under ; and 
that but two occasions happened when we could return their lire, that is, at 
the first and second barriers. Perhaps there never was a body of men asso- 
ciated, who better understood the use and manner of employing a rifle, than 
our corps : which by this time of the attack, had their guns in good order. 
When we took possession of the houses, we had a greater range. Our op- 
portunities to kill, were enlarged. Within one hundred yards, every man 
must die. 

To the great honor of General Carleton, all the wounded, whether friends 
or enemies, were treated with like attention and humanity. Tlie reason why 
the wounded of our side bore so small a proportion to the dead, seems to be 
this : In the long course we ran from Palace Gate to the first barrier, we lost 
many men who were killed outright, but many more died, who were merely 
wounded, yet in such a manner, as in a milder region, to make the case a 
curable one. A blow from a ball so large as that of a musket, staggers a 
man, whether the wound be in the arm, leg, or elsewhere ; if in staggering, 
ho falls, he comes down into a deep bed of snow, from which a hale man 
finds it very difficult to extricate himself. Five or ten minutes struggling 
in such a bed, benumbs the strongest man, as frequent experience has taught 
me ; if the party be wounded, though but slightly, twenty or thirty minutes 
will kill him, not because of the severity of the wound, but by the intensity 
of the frost. 

About nine o'clock A. M., it was apparent to all of us, that we must sur- 
render. It was done. The commissioned officers, and some of the cadets, 
were conducted to the seminary, a respectable building. It became my lot, 
in one way or other, to be lost in the crowd, and to be associated with tlie 
non-commissioned officers, in the company of some of whom, ardent and 
perilous duties had been undergone. These men are by no means to be less- 
ened in character, by contrasting them with the levies made in Europe, or 
those made since that time in our ov/n country. Many of our sergeants, 
and oven of our privates, were, with good educations, substantial freeholders 



OF AMERICAXS. 77 

in our own country. Many of these men, in tbo progress of the bloody 
scenes which ensued, became props of our glorious cause, in defcnso of our 
sacred liberties. Among those was Thomas Boyd, so often spoken of in thu 
wilderness for his good humor, his activity and the intensity of his siift'er- 
ings ; struggled gloriously for his life as a captain, and died a dreadful death 
by the hands of the savages in 1779, in the expedition conducted by Gen- 
eral Sullivan against the Six Nation Indians. 

AVhen under guard, in the morning of the first of January, Colonel M'- 
Doiigal, a Scotch gentleman, near noon, came to review us : his person was 
known to me at Detroit, as an intimate of my uncle, three years before this 
time. The colonel was naturally polite and kind-hearted. When it came 
to my turn to be examined, as to name, place of birth, etc., besiiles making 
the proper answers to his inquiries, I was emboldened to declare, that he 
was known to me. He seemed surprised, but not displeased : a request was 
immediately added, "that he would order me to be transferred to the quar- 
ters of the officers." " No, my dear boy," said he, " you had better remain 
where you are ; the officers, as you are in rebellion, may be sent to England, 
and there be tried for treason." It became my determination tu take this 
fatherly advice for it was really delivered in the parental style, and to adhere 
to it. Ue brought one of his sons, whom I had formerly known, to see me 
on the following day. About mid-day we were escorted to a ruinous mo- 
nastery of the order of St. Francis, called the lieguliers. 

It was now that we fully learnt the destinies of our dear and revered 
general, and his companions in death. But allow me before the detail of 
that sad story, to give you an anecdote : The merchants of Quebec, like 
those of England and our country, are a spirited and generous sect in socie- 
ty ; they applied to Governor Carlelon, and obtained leave, to make us a 
" new-year' .s-gift." This turned out to be no other than a large butt of porter, 
attended by a proportionate quantity of bread and cheese. It was a present 
Avhich exliilaratcd our hearts, and drew from us much thankfulness. We 
shared more tlian a pint per man. 

General Jlonlgoraery had marched at the precise time stipulated, and had 
arrived at his destined place of attack, nearly about the time we attacked 
the first barrier. He was net one that would loiter. Colonel Campbell, of 
the New York troops, a large, good-looking man, who was second in com- 
mand of that party, and was deemed a veteran, accompanied the army to 
the assault ; his station w-as rearward : General Montgomery, with his aids, 
were at the point of the column. 

It is inipo-ssible to present in words an accurate idea of the geographical 
situation of Quebec. I can only give you a few facts ex])lanatory of General 
Montgomery's death and the reasons of our failure. 

From AVolf's Cove there is a good beach, down to, and around " Cape Dia- 
mond." The bulwarks of the city, came to the edge of the hill, above that 
place. Thence down the side of the precipice, slantingly to the brink of 
the river, there was a stockade of strong posts, fifteen or twenty feet high, 
knit together by a stout railing, at bottom and to)) with jiins. This was no 
mean defense, and was at the distance of one hundred yards from the point 
of the rock. Within this palisade, and at a few yards from the very point 
itself, there was a like palisade, though it did not run so high up the hill. 



78 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Again, witliiii Gape Diamond, and probably at a distance of fifU' j'ards, there 
stood a block-house, which seemed to take up the space, between the foot 
of the hill and the precipitous bank of the river, leaving a cart-way, or 
passage on each side of it. A block-house, if well constructed, is an admi- 
rable method of defense, which in the process of the war, to our cost, was 
fully experienced. The upper story, of this building had four or more port 
holes, for cannon of a large calibre. These guns were charged with grape 
or canister shot, and were pointed with exactness toward the avenue, at 
Cape Diamond. The hero Montgomerj' came. The drowsy or drunken 
guard, did not hear the sawing of the posts of the first palisade. Here, four 
posts were sawed and thrown aside, so as to admit four men abreast. The 
column entered with a manly fortitude. Moutgomery, accompanied by his 
aids, M'Pherson and Cheeseman, advanced in front. Arriving at the second 
palisade, the general, with his own hands, sawed down two of the pickets, 
in such a manner, as to admit two men abreast. These saw'cd pickets were 
close under the hill, and but a few yards from the very point of the rock, 
out of the view and fire of the enemy, from the block-house. Until our 
troops advanced to the point, no harm could ensue, but by stones thrown 
from above. Even now, there had been but an imperfect discovery of the 
advancing of an enemy, and that only by the intoxicated guard. The guard 
fled, the general adv.anced a few paces. A drunken sailor returned to his 
gun, swearing he would not forsake it while undischarged. This fact is re- 
lated from the testimony of the guard on the morning of our capture, sonjti 
of those sailors being our guard. Applying the match, this single discharge 
deprived us of our excellent commander. 

Examining the spot, the officer who escorted ns, professing to be one of 
those, who first came to the place, after the death of the general, showed 
the position in which the general's body was found. It lay two paces from 
the brink of the river, on the back, the arms extended— Cheeseman lay on 
the left, and M'Pherson on the right, in a triangular position. Two other 
brave men lay near them. As all danger from without had vanished, the 
government had not only permitted the mutilated palisades to remain, with- 
out renewing the inclosure, but the very sticks, sawed by the hand of our 
commander, still lay, strewed about the spot. 

Colonel Campbell, appalled by the death of the general, retreated a little 
way from Cape Diamond, out of the reach of the cannon of the block- 
house, and )ireterdedl;' called a council of officer.'^, who, it was said, justified 
his receding from the attack. If rushing on, as military duty required, and 
a brave man would have done, the block-house might have been occupied 
by a small number, and was unassaikable from without, but by cannon. 
Prom the block-house to the center of the lower town, where we were, there 
was no obstacle to impede a force so powerful, ns that under Colonel Camp- 
bell. Cowardice, or a want of good will toward our cause, left us to our 
miserable fate. A junction, though we might not conquer the fortress, would 
enable us to make an honorable retreat, though with the loss of many valu- 
able lives. Campbell, who was ever after considered as a poltroon in gr.ain, 
retreated, leaving the bodies of the general, M'Pherson and Cheeseman, to 
be devoured by the dogs. 

On the third day of our capture, the generous Carleton dispatched a Hag 



OF AMERICANS. 79 

to Arnold, to obtain what trifling baggage we bad left at our quarters ; miiio 
was either forgotten, or miserable as it was, had been i)lundered ; but as good 
luck would have it, the knapsack of one Alexander Nelson of our com- 
pany, w-ho was killed when running to the first barrier, was disclaimed by 
all of our men. Your father in consequence, laid violent hands upon the 
spoil. It furnished Boyd and myself with a large, but coarse blue blanket, 
called a "stroud," and a drummer's regimental coat. The blanket became 
a real comfort, the coat an article of barter. It was on tliis day, that my 
heart was ready to burst with grief, at viewing the funeral of our beloved 
general. Carleton had, in our former wars with the French, been the friend 
and fellow-soldier of Montgomery. Tliough political opinions, perhaps am- 
bition or interest, had thrown these worthies on dilTeront sides of the great 
question, yet the former could not but honor the remains of his quondam 
friend. About noon, the procession passed our quarters. It was most 
solemn. The cofBu covered with a ]iall, surmounted by tranverse swords — 
was borne by men. The regular troops, particularly that fine body of men, 
the seventh regiment, with reversed arms, and scarfs on the left elbow, ac- 
companied the corpse to the grave. The funerals of the other officers, both 
friends and enemies, were performed this d.ay. From many of us, it drew 
tears of affection for the defunct, and speaking for myself, tears of greeting 
and thankfulness, toward General Carleton. The soldiery and inhabitants, 
appeared afJeoted by the loss of this invaluable man, though he was their 
enemy. If such meu as Washington, Carleton and Montgomery, had had 
the entire direction of the adverse war, the contention, in the event, might 
have happily terminated to the advantage of both sections of the nation. 
M'l'herson, Cheeseman, Hendricks, Humphreys, were all dignified by the 
manner of burial. 

On the same, or the following day, we were compelled (if we would look), 
to a more di.sgusting and torturing sight. Many carioles, repeatedly one 
after the other, passed our dwelling loaded with the dead, whether of the 
assailants or of the garrison, to a place, emphatically, called the "dead- 
house." Here the bodies were heaped in monstrous piles. The hoiTor of the 
sight, to us southern men, principally consisted in seeing our companions 
borne to interment, uncoffined, and in the very clothes thej' had worn in 
battle ; their limbs distorted in various directions, such as woidd ensue in 
the moment of death. Many of our friends and acquaintances were apparent. 
Poor Nelson lay on the top of half a dozen other bodies — his arms extended 
beyond his head, as if in the act of prayer, and one knee crooked and raised 
seemingly, when he last gasped in the agonies of death. Curse on these 
civil wars which extinguish the sociabilities of mankind, and anniliilate the 
strength of nations! A flood of tears was consequent. Though Mont- 
gomery was beloved, because of his manliness of soul, heroic braverj' and 
suavity of manners ; Hendricks and Humphreys, for the same admirable 
qualities, and especially for the endurances wo underwent in conjunction, 
which enforced many a tear : still my unhapj)y and lost brethren, though in 
humble station, with whom that dreadful wiUl was penetrated, and from 
whom came many attentions toward me, forced melancholy sensations. 
From what is said relative to the "dead-house," you miglit conclude that 
(jcncral Carleton was inhumane or hard-hearted. No such thing. In this 



80 ADVENTUr.ES AND ACIIIEVEMENTS 

northern latitude, at this season of the year, according to my feelings (we 
had no thermometer), the weather was so cold, as usually to be many degrees 
below zero. A wound, if mortal, or even otherwise, casts the jiarly wounded 
into the snow ; if death should follow, it throws the sufferer into various 
attitudes, which are assumed in the extreme pain accompanying death. 
The moment death takes place, the frost fixes the limbs in whatever situa- 
tion they may then happen to be, and which cannot be reduced to decent 
order, until they are thawed. In this state, the bodies of the slain are de- 
posited in the "dead-house," hard as ice. At this season of the year, tho 
earth is frozen from two to five feet deep, impenetrable to the best piclv-axe 
in the hands of the stoutest man. Hence you may perceive a justification 
of the "dead-house." It is no new observation, "that climates form the 
manners and habitudes of the people." 

About the first of January we were removed from the P.eguliers to the 
Dauphin jail, where we were well accomodated It was an old French build- 
ing in the Bastile style. We had scarcely got settled in our new quarters 
before we had a plan laid to effect our escape, and join the forces of our 
countrymen outside. Our scheme was for one party of us to overpower tho 
sentinels and seize their depot of arms, set fire to the jail and surrounding 
buildings to amuse or employ the enemy while wo were running to St. John's 
gate. In the meanwhile another party were to proceed at once to attack and 
carry St. John's gate, and instantly to turn the cannon upon the city. We 
expected in this event to maintain our position on the walls until the Amer- 
ican army should arrive from without. In that case St. John's gate was to 
be opened. But if unfortunately beaten, we were to spring from the walls into 
the snow and each man to trust to his own legs. It was supposed, in the 
worst resiilt, that the hurry and bustle created by so sudden, unforseen, and 
daring an attack would throw the garrison into consternation and disorder to 
such a degree as to admit of the escape of many ; sluggards might expect to 
be massacred. In an old room of the prison into which we broke was a pile 
of iron and iron hoops and lumber from which we secretly constructed swords 
and spears, rough but serviceable weapons, sufficient in the hands of our dar- 
ing fellows to bring down the stoutest of the enemy. When evrything was 
ready our well-laid plan was foiled by the indiscretion of two youths ; my 
heart was nearly broken by the excess of surpri.»e and burning anger to bo 
thus accir 'V deprived of the gladdening hope of a speedy return to our 
friends a 

Our leaders were carried before tho governor's council. They boldly ad- 
mitted and justified the attempt. We did not fare the worse in our provi- 
sions nor in the estimation of the enemy ; but we were, as a precaution 
against future attempts, put in irons. Several cart loads of bilboes, foot-hob- 
bles and handcuffs were required, although there were not quite enough for 
us all. 

A new species of interesting occurrences, mingled with much fun and 
sportive humor now occurred, which was succeeded by a series of horrible 
anguish. The doors were scarcely closed, before we began to assay the i;n- 
shackling. Those who had small hands, by compressing the palms, could 
easil}' divest the irons from their wrist. Of these there were many, who 
became the assistant? of their friends, whose hands were larger. Here there 



OF AMERICANS. 81 

■was a ncceosity for ingenuity. Knives iiotclied as saws, were the principal 
moans. The head of the rivet, at the end of the bar, was sawed off, it was 
lengthened and a screw formed upon it, to cap which, a false head was made, 
either of iron or of lead, resembling as much as possible the true head. 
Again new rivets were formed from the iron we had preserved in our secret 
hoards, from the vigilance of the searchers. These new rivets being made 
to bear a strong likeness to the old, were then cut into two parts — one part 
driven into the bolt tightly, became stationar\', the other part was move- 
able. It behooved the wearer of the manacle to look to it, that he did not 
lose the loose part, and when the searchers came to examine, that it should 
stand firm in the orifice. Some poor fellows, perhaps from a defect of in- 
genuity, the hardness of the iron, or the want of the requisite tools, could 
not discharge the bilboes. This was particularly the melancholj' predica- 
ment of three of Morgan's men, whose heels were too long to slip through 
the iron w^hich encompassed the small of the leg. It was truly painful to 
see three persons attached to a monstrous bar, the weight of which was 
above their strength to carry. It added to the poignancy of their sufferings, 
in such frigid weather, that their colleagues at the bar, having shorter heels, 
could withdraw the foot and perambulate the jail : where their companions 
left them, there they must remain seated on the lloor, unless some kind 
hands assisted them to remove. 

Sentries, on our part, were regularly stationed at certain windows of the 
jail, to descry the approach of any one in the garb of an officer. Notwith- 
stairding every caution to avoid detection, yet the clang of the lock of the 
great door was upon some occasions the only warning given us of the im- 
pending danger. The scamperings at those times were truly diverting, and 
having always escaped discover}', gave us much amusement. The clanking 
of the fetters followed, and was terrible ; such as the imagination forms in 
childhood, of the condition of the souls in Tartarus ; even this was sport. 
Happily our real situation was never known to any of the government 
officers ; unless the good blacksmith (a worthy Irishman, of a feeling heart), 
might be called such, and he was silent. 

We remained in irons for several months, until one day in May, Colonel 
M'Lean visited the prison in company with Major G.irleton and other officers. 
Being near the major I overheard that admirable man say to M'Lean " Col- 
onel, ambition is laudable. Cannot the irons of these men '' ck off?" 
This the colonel ordered to be done immediately, and >n freed 
from the incumbrance. 

Toward the middle of April, the scurvy, which we had been imbibing 
during the winter, made its appearance in its most virulent and deadly 
forms, preceded and accompanied by a violent diarrhea. Many of those 
who were first affected were taken to the hospital. But the disease soon 
became general among us. We were attended several times by Doctor May- 
hin, the pihysician-general, who, by his tender attentions, and amiable man- 
ners, won our affections : he recommended a cleansing of the stomach, by 
ipecacuanha and mild cathartics, such as rhubarb, together with due ex- 
ercise. Those who were young, active, and sensible of the doctor's salutary 
advice, kept afoot, and practiced every kind of athletic sport we could de- 
vise. On the contrary those who were supinely indolent, and adhered to 



82 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

their blankets, became objects of real commiseration — their limbs contracted, 
as one of mine is now : large blue and even black blotches appeared on their 
bodies and limbs — the gums became black— the morbid flesh fell away — the 
teeth loosened, and in several instances fell out. Our minds were now really 
depressed. That hilarity and fun which supported our spirits in the greatest 
misfortunes, gave way to wailings, groanings and death. I know, from dire 
experience, that when the body suffers pain, the mind, for the time, is de- 
jjrived of all iis exhilarations — in short, almost of the power of thinking. 
The elbow joints, the hips, the knees and ankles were most severely pained. 
It was soon observed (though the doctor's mate attended us almost daily 
and very carefully), there was little or no mitigation of our disease except 
that the diarrhea, which was derived from another cause than that which 
produced the scurvy, was somewhat abated ; and that our remedy lay else- 
where in the materia medica, which was beyond the grasp of the physician. 
The diarrhea came from the nature of the water we used daily. In the 
month of April, the snows begin to melt, not by the heat of the sun, but 
most probably by the warmth of the earth beneath the snows. The ground, 
saturated with the snow-water, naturally increased the fountain-head in the 
cellar. Literally, we drank the melted snow. The scurvy had another 
origin. The diet — .salt pork, infamous biscuit — damp, and close confinement, 
in a narrow space, together with the severity of the climate, were the true 
causes of the scurvy. 

There was no doubt in any reflective mind among us, but that the virtu- 
ous and beneficent Carleton, taking into view his perilous predicament, did 
everything for us, which an honest man and a good Christian could. 

The seventh of May arrived. Two ships came to the aid of the garrison, 
beating through a body of ice, which perhaps was impervious to any other 
than the intrepid sailor. This relief of men and stores, created great joy in 
the town. Our army outside began their disorderly retreat. My friend 
Simpson, with his party, were much misused, from a neglect of giving him 
information of the intended flight of our army. Some few of the men 
under his authority, straggled and were taken in the retreat. They came to 
inhabit our house. Now, for the first time, we heard an account of the oc- 
currences during the winter's blockade, which to us, though of trivial im- 
port, were immensely interesting. The sally of this day, produced to the 
prisoners additional comfort — though the troops took a severe revenge 
upon our friends without, by burning and destroying their properties. The 
next day, more ships and troops arrived : a pursuit took place, the effect of 
which was of no consequence, except so far as it tended to expel the colonial 
troops from Canada. To the jirisoners, this retreat had pleasing conse- 
qtiences ; fresh bread, beef newly slaughtered, and a sujjorabundance of 
vegetables, was a salutary diet to our reduced and scorbutic bodies. 

After we were relieved of our irons and had full bodily liberty a singular 
phenomenon which attends the scurvy, discovered itself. The venerable 
and respectable Maybin, had recommended to us exercise, not only as a mean 
of cure, but as a preventive of the scorbutic humors operating. Four of tlie 
most active would engacre at a game of "fives." Having iilavod some games 
ill continuation, if a party incautioush' sat down, he was seized by the mo.st 
violent pains in the hips and knees, which incapaciated him frurn play for 



OB' AMEUICANS. 83 

many hoTS, and from rising from the earth, where the patient had seated 
himself. I'hese pains taught us to keep afoot all day, and even to eat our 
food in an erect posture. Going to bed in the evening, after a hard day'.s 
play, tlioso sensations of pain upon laying down immediately attacked us. 
The pain would continue half an hour, and often longer. My own experi- 
ence will authorize me to say two hours. In the morning, wo rose free from 
pain, and the routine of play and fatigue ensued, but always attended by 
ihe same cDfects, particularly to the stubborn and incautious, who would not 
adhere to the wholesome advice of Doctor Maybin. Those who were inac- 
tive, retained those excruciating pains to the last, together with their dis- 
torted, bloated, and blackened limbs. Upon our return from Canada, in the 
autumn of 1776, I saw five or six of my crippled compatriots, hobbling 
tlirough the streets of Lancaster on their way home. It cost a tear — all that 
could be given. B3' the mouth of August, the active were relieved from 
those pains. 

In the beginning of August, we were told by Captain Prentis, that the 
Governor had concluded, to send us by sea to New York upon parole, for 
the purpose of being exchanged ; that the transports, which had brought 
the late reinforcements from Europe, were cleansing and preparing for the 
voyage. Now there was e.Kultation. On the seventh of August, we sub- 
scribed our written paroles. We embarked a day or two after in five trans- 
ports conveyed by the Pearl frigate and arrived ui the harbor of New York 
on the 11th of September. 

Now it was for the first time that we heard of the dilemma in which our 
country stood. The battle of Long Island, on the twenty-seventh of August, 
had been unsuccessfully fought by our troops, many of whom were jirisoners. 
In such hurrying times, intercourses between hostile armies in the way of 
negotiation upon any point, are effected with difiiculty. We had waited 
patientl}- several weeks, to be disembarked on our own friendly shore ; yet 
tantalized every day with reports, that to-morrow we should be put on 
shore : some, and in a little while all, began to fear it was the intention of 
General Howe, to detain us as prisoners in opposition to the good will of 
Sir Guy Carleton. 

Near the end of the month our gloomy fears were set at rest by the in- 
telligence that we were to embarked in shallops and landed at Elizabethtown 
Point on the Jersey shore. Every eye sparkled at the news. On the next 
day, about noon, we were in the boats : — adverse winds retarded us. It was 
Morgan stood in the bow of the boat ; making a sjiring, not easily surpassed, 
ten or eleven at night, before we landed; — the moon shone beautifully, 
and falling on the earth, as it were to grasp it — cried " my country." We 
ihat were near him, pursued his example. Now a race commenced, which 
in quickness, could scarcely be exceeded, and soon brought us to Elizabeth- 
town. Here, those of us who were drowsy, spent an uneasy niglit. Being 
unexpected guests, and the town full of troops, no quarters were provided 
for us. Joy rendered beds useless ; we did not close our eyes till daylight. 
Singing, dancing, the Indian halloo, in short, every species of vociferousncss 
was adopted by the men, and many of the most respectable sergeants, to 
express their extreme pleasure. A stranger coming among thum, would 
have pronounced them mad, or at least intoxicated ; though since noon, 
6 



Si ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

neither food nor liquor had passed our lips ; thus the passions may at times 
have an influence on the human frame, as inebriating as wine, or any other 
liquor. The morning brought us plenty, in the form of rations of beef and 
bread. Hunger allayed, my only desire was, to proceed homeward. Money 
was wanting. How to obtain it in a place, where all my friends and ac- 
quaintances were alike poor and destitute, gave me great anxiety and pain. 
Walking vip the street very melancholy, unknowing what to do, I observed 
ii waggon, built in the Lancaster county fashion (which at that time, was 
peculiar in Jersey), unloading stores for the troops, come or coming. The 
owner was Stephen Lutz of Lancaster ; on seeing me, he grasped ray hand 
with fervor, told me every one believed me to be dead. Telling him our 
stor}' in a compendious manner, the good old man, without solicitation, pre- 
sented me two silver dollars, to be repaid at Lancaster. They were gladly 
received. My heart became easy. The next day, in company with the late 
Colonel Febiger, and the present General Nichols, and some other gentlemen, 
we procured a light return-waggon, which gave us a cast as far as Princeton. 
Here we had the pleasure of conversing with Dr. Witherspoon, who was the 
first that informed us of a resolution of Congress to augment the army. It 
gave us pleasure, as we had devoted ourselves individually to the service of 
our country. The next day, we proceeded on foot, no carriage of any kind 
being procurable. Night brought us up at a farm-house, somewhere near 
Bristol. The owner was one of us, that is, a genuine whig. He requested 
us to tarry all night, which we declined. He presented us a supper, that 
was gratefully received. Hearing our story, he was much affected. We 
then tried to prevail on liim, to take us to Philadelphia, in his light wagon. 
It was objected that it stood loaded with hay in the barn floor ; his sons 
were asleep or abroad. We removed these objections, by unloading the hay, 
while this good citizen prepared the horses. Mounting, we arrived at the 
" Harp and Crown," about two o'clock in the morning. To us, it was most 
agreeable, that we passed through the streets of Philadelphia in the night 
time, as our clothing was not only threadbare but shabby. Here wo had 
friends and funds. A gentleman advanced me a sum sufficient to enable 
me to exchange my leggins and moccasins, for a pair of stockings and shoes, 
and to bear my expenses home. A day and a half, brought me to the arms 
of my beloved parents. 

In the course of eight weeks, after my return from captivity, a slight cold, 
caught when skating on the ice of Susquehanna, or in pursuing the wild- 
turkey, among the Kittatinny hills, renewed that abominable disorder, the 
scurvy and lameness, as you now observe it, was the consequence. Would 
to God ! my extreme sufferings, had then ended a life, which since has 
been a tissue of labor, pain, and misery. 



THE WANDERINGS 



OF THAT 



EMINENT AMERICAN TllAYELEK, 

JOHN LEDYARD, 

IN VARIOUS PAIiTS OF THE WORLD. 



John Ledtard was one of those intrepid men, who, "taking their lives 
iu their h;\iids," have, under the stimuhjs of a spirit of adventure, wandered 
into uulcnown and barbarous lands ; by their discoveries extended the boun- 
daries of geographical science, bringing to light new races of men, and re- 
vealing to human knowledge the physical and natural resources of other 
climes. 

Whether we contemplate Ledyard iu his youth, descending the Connoc- 
licut in a frail canoe, when swollen to au impetuous torrent by the melting 
of the winter snows, or voyaging around the world — among the savages of 
New Zealand, or the gay revels of Paris ; in Bhering's Straits, or treading 
Siber.an snows ; on the shores of Bothnia, clambering Uralian crags, or in 
tlie presence of the Irkutsh Tartar; surrounded with the momentoes of 
Egypt's glory, amid the sands of AlVica ; he presents that prompt decision 
and manly self-reliance that will attract all to whom his story is made 
known. 

This, the most eminent of American travelers, was born at Groton, Con- 
necticut, near Fort Griswold, of revolutionary memory, in the year 1751. 
lie was the son of William Ledyard, who was master of a vessel in the 
West India trade. His father dying while John was a lad, threw the 
management of a large family of little ones upon his mother. She was left 
penniless by the loss of the will ; but being an energetic woman, she strug- 
gled successfully against misfortune. William, her second son, was the 
brave Colonel Ledyard, who was barbarously slain after the capitulation 
of Fort Griswold, which he had so gallantly defended. John, the subject 
of this sketch, was her eldest son. lie was eventually sent to Hartford, 
where he first attended the grammar school, and then became a student in 
the law office of his uncle and guardian, Thomas Seymour, and an inmate 
in his family. 

When Ledyard was in his Iweiiticth year. Dr. Wheelock, tlie founder of 
D.irtmouth College, prompted by an intimacy which had existed between 
Ledyard's grandfather and himself, [jrevailed upon him to enter that institu- 
tion, with a view to his becoming a missionary among the Indians. The 
position of an Indian missionary, as the experience of Wheelock, Eliot, and 

(85) 



86 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

others, proved, was one of hardship ; which to the adventurous disposition 
of Lodyard, was at first alluring, and ho began his studies with zeal. He 
soon, however, became restless and discontented. Steady, persevering 
application to books, was irksome to his nature. 

He had been at Dartmouth a few months, onl\', when he suddenly dis- 
appeared, and no one knew whither. It was his first expedition. lie plunged 
into the wilderness, and traveled among the Six Nations on the borders of the 
Canadas, where he spent nearly three montlis in wandering among the Indian 
tribes, to gain a knowledge of their mode of life, in view of his anticipated 
duties as a missionary among them. He reappeared at Dartmouth as un- 
expectedly as he had left, eflectually cured of all missionary inclinations. 

On his return he was continually devising some plan for the gratification 
of his romantic fancy. His disposition was cheerful, and his conversation 
and manners so winning, that he was a great favorite among his fellow 
students. One winter's afternoon he pei"suaded a number of his compauioiiB 
to go with him and spend the night in the snow on the summit of a neigh- 
boring mountain, so that those who designed becoming missionaries amoiii' 
the Indians, might have a foretaste of the hardships in store for them. 
Over a patliless route, through forest and through swamp, ho led his little 
band to the appointed spot. They had barely time to kiudle thoir fire and 
make their beds on the snow when night closed in upon thorn. The hours 
passed wearily, and rarely has daylight been more hearclly greeted than it 
was by all of that little party, save Lcdyard, whose appetite only grew by 
indulgence. 

Robinson Crusoo was evidently Ledyard's heau ideal of a hero. To the 
young mind which makes companions of its own dream, solitude is sweet, 
as it favors their growth, and throws a gorgeous mantle over their deformi- 
ties. Our young traveler seems to have early conceived the design of 
achieving a I'eputatioa, and in the meanwhile, until he should have made 
the first step, and acquired the right to exact some degree of consideration 
among mankind, the dim forest, or the lonely river, was a more agreeable 
associate in his mind, than any of those two-legged animals with which a 
residence at college daily brought him into contact. He therefore at once 
resolved to put an end to so mawkish a mode of life. Selecting from the 
majestic fo-rest, which clothed the margin of the Connecticut River, a tree 
largo enough to form a canoe, he contrived, with the aid of some of his 
foUow-students, to fell and convey it to the stream which runs near the 
eol'.oge. Here it was hollowed out, and fashioned in the requisite shape 
and when completed, measured fifty feet in length by three in broadtu. 
His young college companions enabled him to lay in the necessary store 
cf provisions. lie had a bear-skia for a covering; a Gre'ek Testament and 
Ovid to amuse him on the way ; and thus equipped, he pushed off into the 
current, bade adieu to his youthful friends, turned his back upon Dartmouth, 
and floated leisurely down the stream. Hartford, the place of his destina- 
tion, was one hundred and forty miles distant. The country, during much 
of the way, w.as a wilderness ; and the river, of the navigation of which he 
was totally ignorant, exhibited in many places dangerous falls and rapids. 
However, youth and ignorance are generally bold. He was, besides, too 
well pleased at escaping from the irksomoness cf regular study ; and, indeed, 



OI^" AMERICAXS. 87 

too much enamored of ilanijer itself to have been terrified, even had he fully 
understood the character of the river. 

The canoe being carried along with suflioient rapidity by the force of the 
current, he had but little occasion for using his paddles, and filled up the 
intervals of reflection with reading, lie wiis thus employed when the cauoo 
approached Bellows' Falls. The noise of the waters rushing with impetuous 
velocity through their narrow channel between the rocks, roused him to a, 
sense of his danger, fortunately, in time to enable him by the strenuous use 
of his paddles to reach the shore, llis canoe was dragged round the fall by 
the kindness of the good people of the neighborhood, who were amazed at 
the boldness and novelty of his enterprise, and again safely launched upon 
the waters below. 

As the sun was rising on one of those clear, bracing spring mornings so 
common in 2sew England, Mr. Seymour, with his famih*, was standing on a 
little mound near their house looking out upon the river, when they dis- 
covered in the distance, an unknown object floating down tlie stream. As 
it came nearer, the\' saw it was a canoe with a man wrapped closely in some 
garment, sitting in the stern. AVhen nearly opposite them, it made for the 
shore, and stopped in front of their dwelling. The man then leaped on 
land, threw aside his bear-skin, and they recognized John Ledyard, whom 
they supposed was then at Dartmouth studying v/ith a view to missionary 
life! 

Whether or not any efforts were made on this occasion to induce Ledyard 
to resume his missionary studies is not known ; but if there were, it was 
without success. His inclinations, as already observed, had now taken 
another direction. He was desirous of becoming a regular clergyman, and 
ezcrted himself, unfit as he was, to obtain a preacher's license. Inferior 
claims have sometimes been urged with elfcct ; but Ledyard's were rejected ; 
and in that reckless state of mind produced by disappointment and disgust, 
which none but those who have been buffeted by adverse fortune can 
properly conceive, he threw himself into the first gap which he saw open, 
and determinad to combat with the ills of life in the humble condition of a 
common sailor. In this capacity he sailed for Gibraltar, in the ship of a 
Captain Deshon, who had been a friend of his father. Though this gentle- 
man, we are told, regarded him more in the light of a companion than as 
one of his crew, Ledyard seems to have conceived no very favorable idea of 
a seaf.iring life from his voyage across the Atlantic, and on his landing at 
Gibraltar, determined to avoid a repetition of the experiment by enlisting in 
the army. By the solicitations of Captain Deshon, however, who at the 
same time strongly remonstrated with him on the impropriety of his con- 
duct, he was released, and returned with his liberator to New London. 
This voyage put to flight his romantic ideas respecting the life of a mariner ; 
and he once more saw himself dependent on his friends, without profession 
or prospect. 

From the conversation of some of the older members of his family, he had 
learned that in England he possessed many wealthy relations ; and the idea 
now occurred to him, that could he but make himself known to these, he 
should be received with open arms, and lifted up at once to a respoctabla 
position in society. With him to resolve and to act were the same thing. 



88 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

He immediately proceeded to Xew York, where, finding a vessel bound for 
England, he obtained a berth, probably on condition of his working as a 
sailor. On landing at Plymouth, he found himself penniless, and without a 
friend, in a strange country ; but his courage, sustained by the golden hopes 
with which he amused his imagination, was proof against misfortune. Uis 
calamities, he flattered himself, were soon to have an end. He was now 
within a few days' journey of his wealthy relations ; and provided he kept, 
as the vulgar say, body and soul together, what did it signify how he passed 
the brief interval which separated him from his island of Baralaria ? 
Accordingly, relying upon that principle in our nature by which compassion 
is kindled, and the hand stretched forth to relieve, as often as real honest 
distress presents itself, he set out for London. On the way his good genius 
brought him acquainted with an Irishman, whose pockets were as guiltless 
of coin as his own ; and as it is a comlbrt not to be " alone unhappy " in this 
"wide and universal theater," these two moneyless friends were a great con- 
solation to each other. In fact, it is often among the pioor and unfortunate 
that fellowship is most sweet. The sight of another's sufferings excites our 
magnanimitj-. We scorn to sink under what we see, by another man's 
experience, can be borne, perhaps, without repining. And thus two pioor 
adventurers, without a penny, may be of use to each other, by reciprocally 
affording an example of fortitude and patience. Lcdyard and his Hibernian 
companion begged by turns, and in this way reached London, where they 
separated, each to cherish his poverty in a different nook. 

Hunger, which has a kind of predilection for great cities, seems to sharpen 
the sight as well as the wits of men ; for, amid the vast throng of equipages 
which jostle and almost hide each other in the streets of London, Ledyard's 
eye caught the family name upon a carriage ; and he learned from the 
coachman the profession and address of the owner, who was a rich merchant. 
El Dorado was before him. He hastened to the house, and although the 
master himself was absent, he found the son, who, at all events, listened to 
his story. When he had heard him out, however, he very coolly informed 
our sanguine traveler, that he wholly disbelieved his representations, never 
having heard of any relations in America ; but that from the East Indies, he 
added, they expected a member of the family, whom Ledyard greatly 
resembled ; and that if in reality he was the person, he would ba received 
with open arms. 

This reception, so different from that which he had anticipated, j'ct so 
extremely natural under the circumstances of the case, was more than Led- 
yard's philosophy, which had not yet been suEBciently disciplined by poverty, 
could digest ; and he quitted the house of his cautious relative with avowed 
disgust. How he now continued to subsist is not known. It appears, how- 
ever, that in spite of his distress he succeeded in making the acquaintance 
of several respectable individuals, to whom he related his story, and who, 
taking an interest in his fate, exerted themselves to effect a reconciliation 
between him and his wealtlw friends, but without success ; for distrust on 
the one part, and haughtiness on the other, intervened, and shipwrecked 
their good intentions. 

Years after, when his name became famous, and all London was filled 
with the story of his adventures, his relatives made overtures to him, and 



OF AMEIUCAKS. 89 

even sent him money, begging his acceplanco of it, as a testimonial of 
esteem. Though really in need, he rejected their offers with disdain. 
"Tell your master," said he to the bearer, "that he docs not belong tc the 
race of Lcdyards." 

While our traveler's afl'airs were in this precarious or rather despj'ralo 
state, an account of tlie prei).arations which were making for Captain Cook'.s 
third voyage round the world, reached him in his obscurity. Ambition, 
which for some time seems to have been almost stifled in his mind, by bis 
distresses, now again awoke. Ho longed to form a part of the glorious 
enterprise, and to behold, .at least, if ho could not share iu the achievements 
of the illustrious navigator. As a preliminary step he enlisted in the marint; 
service ; and having procured an interview with Captain Cook, his energy 
and enthusiasm so strongly recommended him, tliat the great discoverer 
immediately took him into his service, and promoted him to be a corporal 
of marines. 

The expedition s.ailed from England on the 12th of July, 177G. It con- 
sisted of two ships, the Resolution, commanded by Captain Cook, and tho 
Discovery, by Captain Clerke. After touching at Teneriffe, and the Cape of 
Good Hope, where they laid in a large stock of provisions, and live animals, 
designed to be left at the various islands on which they did not exist, they 
sailed toward the southern extremity of New Holland. In twenty-five days 
they arrived at Kerguelen's Island, then recently discovered. It was barren, 
and totally without inhabitants. There was, however, a scantj- supply of 
grass, and a species of wild cabbage, which they cut for their cattle. Fresli 
water was found in abundance ; for it rained profusely, so that torrents came 
tumbling down from the hills, and enabled them to replenish their empty 
casks. Seals and sea-dogs covered the shore ; and vast flocks of birds 
hovered around. Never having experienced in their lonely island the 
danger of approaching man, they did not fly from their visitors, but suffered 
themselves, and more particularly the penguin, to be knocked down witli 
clubs. Here they celebrated Christmas, and then proceeded to Van Dieman'.s 
Land. 

Within less than two months al'ter leaving the Cape of Good Hope, tliey 
cast anchor in Adventure Bay, in this island, which w;xs then sujjposed to 
form a part of Now Holland. At first no inhabitants appeared, tliough, iu 
sailing along the coast, they had observed columns of smoke a.<cending be- 
tween the trees ; but in a few days the natives, men, women, and children, 
came down to the beach, exhibiting in their persons tho extreme of human 
wretchedness. Tliey were black, with negro features, and woolly hair, 
besmeared with red ochre and grease, and went completely naked. Bread 
and fish, which were given them, they threw away ; but of tlie flesh of birds 
they appeared fond. Their only weai)on was a rudo stick about three feet 
long, and sharjiened at one end They had no canoes, no houses, and 
appeared to be, to a great degree, destitute of curiosity. 

Having laid in a sufficient stock of wood and water, the expedition pro- 
ceeded to New Zealand, where they remained a whole month, employed in 
laying in provisions, and in making observations on the character of tha 
country and its inhabitants. They found tho New Zoalanders a race differ- 
ing, in many respects, froie the natives of all tho surrounding island.s. 



90 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Cainiibiilism of the most revolting kind floiirislieil huro in all ilsglorj'. Tho 
first thought of man on belioldiiig tho face of a fcllow-croiitiire, like Fonte- 
iielle's on seeing a flock of sheep in a meadow', was what nice eating he 
would make ; and if they abstained from devouring their neighbors as well 
as their enemies, it was merely from fi^av of reprisals. Yet, united with 
propensities which, if found to be ineradicable, would justify their extermi- 
nation, these people are said to possess a vehement affection for their friends, 
constancy in their attachments, and a strong disposition to love. It is very 
jjossible that both their good and bad qualities may have been misrepre- 
sented. Tlie views and feelings of savages are not easily comprehended, 
and it is seldom that those who enjoy opportunities of observing them, 
possess tho genius to divine, from a few flitting and often constrained mani- 
festations of them, the secret temper of the soul. 

During their stay at this island, one of the mariners formed an attachment 
for a young female cannibal ; and, in order to wind himself the more 
cfl'ectually into her afi'ections, he secretly caused himself to be tattooed, 
resolving, when the ship should sail, to make his escape, and relapse into 
tho savage state with his mistress. I say relapse, because from that state 
we rose, and, whenever we can slip through the artificial scaffolding upon 
which we have been placed by philosophy and civil government, to that 
state we inevitably return. These two lovers, though deprived of the aids 
which language affords in the communication of thought and sentiments, 
contrived thoroughly to understand each other. When the time for the 
departure of the ships arrived, the sailor, tattooed, and dressed like a savage, 
was suffered to escape among the crowds of natives who were hurrying on 
shore ; but when the roll was called, to ascertain whether all hands were on 
board, his absence was discovered. A guard of marines, dispatched in 
search of him by tho command of Cook, dragged him from the arms of his 
savage mistress, who exhibited ever}' token of anguish and inconsolable 
grief, and leaving her in loneliness and bitter disappointment on the beach, 
hurried the culprit on board to take his trial for desertion. In considera- 
tion of the motive, however, the commander humanely remitted the punish- 
ment of the offense ; but it is extremely probable that his vigilance de- 
frauded a party of New Zealanders of a feast, for as soon as the ships should 
have been out of sight, these honest people would, no doubt, have consigned 
the sailor to their subterranean ovens. 

Though desirous of making direct for Tahiti, or Otaheite, contrary winds 
and boisturous weather forced them out of their course, and as they now 
began to be in want of grass and water for the cattle, as well as fresh pro- 
visions for the men, it was judged advisable to sail away for the Friendly 
Islands. JIany new islands were discovered during this voyage, upon one 
of which, named Wattceoo, they landed. Here, to his great astonishment, 
Omai, the native of Tahiti whom Cook had taken with him to England, 
found three of his countrymen, who, having been overtaken by a storm at 
sea, had been driven in their canoe to this island, a distance of more than 
fifteen hundred miles. During the thirteen days that they had been hurried 
before the gale, without water or provisions, most of their companions had 
perished o"" hunger, or, stung to phrensy by their sufferings, had jumped into 
the Bca. The survivors were now settled at Wattecoo, and refused his 



OF AMERICANS. 91 

invitation to revisit their native conntr}-, tlio siglit of wliifih could only 
renew their grief for the loss of tlieir dearest friends. This fact suflicos to 
explain how ishinds extremely distant from the great hives of mankind have 
been peopled, and exhibit, in their population, resemblances to races from 
which thej' wonld apiiear to be separated by insurmountable barriers. 

From hence they sailed to Tongataboo, an island exceedingly fertile, and 
covered with forest.s, where the}' remained twenty-six days collecting pro- 
visions. The natives, who, having ingrafted the vices of civilized natione 
upon their own, have since exhibited themselves nndor a dilTerent aspect, 
now appeared to be a simple and inofifensive race. Much of their leisure, 
of which they appeared to have but too great plent}', was occupied in 
curious religious ceremonies, which, as among many civilized nations, were 
regarded something in the light of amusements. Then- king, Poulaho, con- 
ducted himself with marked suavity and respect toward his strange g'uests. 
Few civilized individuals, indeed, coming suddenly into contact with a new 
race of men, could have shown more ease and self-possession than this 
savage chief. However, ho declined Cook's invitation to go on board the 
day after their arrival; but entertained Ledyard, whoso duty it w.as to 
remain on shore that night, in a kind and hospitable manner. 

It was just dusk, says our traveler, when they parted, and as I had been 
present during a part of this first interview, and was detained on shore, I 
was glad he did not go off, and asked him to my tent ; but Poulaho chose 
rather to have me go with him to his house, where we went and sat down 
together without the entrance. AVe had been here but a few minutes before 
one of the natives advanced through the grove to the skirts of the green, and 
there halted. Poulaho observed him, and told me he wanted him ; upon 
which I beckoned to the Indian, and he came to us. When he approached 
Poulaho, he squatted down ujDOn his hams, and put his forehead to the sole 
of Poulaho's foot, and then received some directions from him, and went 
avi'ay ; and returned again very soon with some baked yams and fish rolled 
up in fresh plantain-leaves, and a large cocoanut-shell full of clean fresh 
water, and a smaller one of salt water. These he set down, and went and 
fetched a mess of the same kind, and set it down by me. Poulaho then 
desired I would eat ; but preferring salt, which I had in the tent, to the sea- 
water which they used, I called one of the guard, and had some of that 
brought me to eat with my fish, which was really most delightfully dressed, 
and of which I ate very heartily. 

Their animal and vegetable food is dressed in the same manner here, as 
at the .southern and northern tropical islands throughout these seas, being all 
baked among hot stones, laid in a hole, and covered over, first with leaves, 
and then with mould. Poulaho wiis fed by the chief who waited upon him, 
both with victuals and drink. After he had finished, the remains were 
carried away by the chief in wailing, who returned soon after with two 
large, separate rolls of cloth, and two little, low wooden stools. The cloth 
was for a covering while asleep, and the stools to raise and rest the head on, 
as we do on a pillow. These were left within the house, or rather under 
the roof, one side being open. The floor within wis composed of dry gra.ss, 
leaves, and flowers, over which were spread large, well-wrought mats. On 
this Poulaho and I removed and sat down, while the chief unrolled and 



92 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMI^NTS 

spread out the cloth, after \vhich he retired ; and in a few minutes there 
appeared a fine young girl, about seventeen years of age, who, approaching 
Poulalio, stooped and Icissed his great toe, and then retired, and sat down in 
an opposite part of the house. It was now about nine o'oloci;, and a bright 
moonshine ; the sl;y was serene, and the wind hushed. Suddenly I heard 
a number of their flutes, beginning nearly at the same time, burst from every 
quarter of the surrounding grove ; and whether this was meant as an 
exhilarating serenade, or a soothing soporifio to the great Poulaho, I cannot 
tell. Immediately ou hearing the music he took me by the hand, intimat- 
ing that he was going to sleep, and, showing me the other cloth, which 
was spread nearly beside him, and the pillov/, invited me to use it." 

The manners of the people whom Ledyard had now an opportunity of 
contemplating, indicated a character nearly the reverse of that of the Sow 
Zealanders. In what circumstances those extraordinary differences origin- 
ated, it is foreign to the present purpose to inquire. To account for them, as 
some writers have done, by the influence of climate, is willfully to sport with 
facts and experience. Within the same degrees of latitude, pursuing our 
researches round the globe, we have black men and white ; cannibals, and 
races remarkable for humanity ; men so gross in their intellects, that they' 
retain nothing of man but the shape, and others with a character and genius 
so admirably adapted to receive the impressions of laws and civilization, 
that the}' turn every natural or accidental advantage of their position to the 
greatest account, and run on in the career of improvement with gigantic 
strides. This was not Ledyard's theory. He seemed everywhere to dis- 
cover proofs of the vast influence of climate in rendering men what they 
are, morally as well as physically ; though he could not be ignorant that 
while the climate of Greece and Italy remains what it was in old times, the 
physiognomy of the inhabitants has undergone an entire change, while their 
moral condition is, if possible, deteriorated still more than their features. 
The mind of man seems, in fact, after having borne an extraordinarj' crop 
of virtues, knowledge, and heroic deeds, to require, like the earth, to lie 
fallow for a season. It cannot be made to yield fruit beyond a certain point, 
upon which, when it has once touched, no jjower under heaven cau prevent 
its relapsing into barrenness. 

The population scattered over the innumerable islands of the Pacific, have 
been in a remarkably peculiar position from the time in which they were 
discovered up to the j)resent moment. Civilization has, in a manner, been 
forced upon them. Their idols have been thrown down; the bloody or 
absurd rites of their religion have, in many instances, been exchanged for 
the blessings and the light of Christianity; and although silly or affected 
persoi}s may lament for the disappearance of what they term a "picturesque 
superstition," every real friend of humanity will rejoice at seeing a church 
occupying the site of a moral ; and men, who once delighted to feed upon 
the limbs of an enemy, employing themselves in deriving subsistence from 
their own industry and ingenuity. 

The people of Tongataboo, at the period of Ledyard's visit, though 
neither cruel nor ferocious, were partial to athletic exercises, and not averse 
to war. It seems to have yielded them great satisfaction to be .illowed to 
display, in the presence of their visitors, their vigor and dexterity, which 



OF AMEllICANS. 93 

were by no means despicable. Their performances, vvliicli cliiefly consisted 
of wrestling and boxing, always took place upon the greensward, in the 
open air ; and iu order to prevent what was only meant for amusemeut 
from degenerating into angry contests, a certain number of elderly men pre- 
sided over and regulated the exercises; and when either of the combatants 
appeared to be fairly worsted, they mildly signified the fact, and this was 
considered a sufficient compliment to the victor. Like the boxers of 
antiquity, they wore upon the hand a kind of glove, composed of cords or 
thongs, designed to prevent their grappling each other, and at the same 
time to preserve them from dislocations of the joints, particularly of that of 
the thumb. Sometimes, however, they engaged each other with clnbs, in 
which c:\sc3 the performances were highly dangerous. Our traveler wit- 
nessed one of these contests, which, as the persons engaged were renowned 
for their superior skill, w-as protracted considerably, though they are in 
general of brief duration. At length, however, tho aifair was decided by a 
fortuitous blow on tho head. The vanquished ch.ampion was carried oS" 
the ground by his friends, while the conqueror was greeted with enthusiastic 
Bhouts of praise from the spectators ; and " when these shouts ended, the 
young women around the circle rose, and sang, and danced a short kind of 
interlude, in celebration of the hero." 

With the brilliant exhibition of fireworks, which, in return for their 
hospitality and politeness. Cook got up for their amusement, both Poulaho 
and his people were greatly astonished and delighted. The animals, like- 
wise, which were new to them, excited their wonder. Goats and sheep 
they regarded as a species of birds ; but in the horse, the cow, the cat, and the 
rabbit, they could perceive no analogy with the dog or the hog, the only 
animals with which they had till then been conversant. 

The idens of these people respecting properly, were either very vague, or 
very dilTerent from those of their visitors. Wliatcver they saw pleasing to 
tho eye in the possession of the white men, without considering whether or 
not it was intended for them, they immediately appropriated to them- 
selves ; ]irobably from the belief that these munificent strangers, who 
bestowed upon them so many wonderful things, were a kind of good genii, 
who, in their own case, stood in no need of such articles. Cook did not 
understand this simplicity, lie attached the idea of a thief to every person 
who touched what did not belong to him, and punished these_ ignorant 
savages with the same rigid justice, if we may so apply the term, which he 
would have shown toward a hardened offender at the Old Bailj'. In one 
instance, even the justice of his conduct may be questioned. One of the 
chiefs stole some peacocks from the ships, and Cook arrested, not the 
oiTender, but the king, whom he kept in custody until the culprit came for- 
ward engaging to restore the birds. This w;u5 an absurd exercise of power, 
which could not fail considerably to abate the respect of the natives for the 
civilized portion of mankind. 

From Tongataboo the expedition sailed to Tahiti, where they arrived on 
the 14th of August. Here Ledyard employed his leisure, which api)ears to 
have been considerable, in studying the character and manners of the in- 
habitants ; and upon these points his opinions generally agree with the re- 
ceived notions respecting those people. In sailing northward from this 



94 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

group they discovered the Sandwich Islands, where they remained ten days ; 
and then, steering still toward the north, arrived without accident in Nootkn 
Sound, where they cast anchor in nearly five hundred fathoms of water. 
Ledyard was now on his native continent, and, though more than three 
thousand miles from the place of his birth, experienced on landing some- 
thino- like a feeling of home. Tho inhabitants he found to be of the same 
race with those on the shores of the Atlantic. In stature they are above tho 
middle size, athletic in their make, and of a copper color. Their long black 
hair they wear tied up in a roll on the top of the head, and, by way of orna- 
ment, smear it over with oil and paint, in which they stick a quantity of the 
down of birds. They paint their faces red, blue, and white, but refused to. 
reveal the nature of their cosmetics, or the conntry whence they obtained 
them. Their clothing principally consists of skins, besides which, however, 
they have two kinds of garments, of which one is manufactured from the 
inner bark of trees, and resembles our coarser cloths ; the other made chiefly 
from the hair of white dogs, and wrought over with designs, representing 
their mode of catching the whale, which our traveler considered the most 
ingenious piece of workmanship he anywhere saw executed bj' a savage. 
All their garments, like those of the Hindoos, are worn like mantles, and are 
invariably fringed, or ornamented in some fashion or other, at the edges. 
This species of border ornament, denominated wmapum on the opposite side 
of the continent, was found, not only all along this coast, but also on tho 
eastern shores of Asia. On the feet they wear no covering ; and if they 
occasionally cover their heads, it is with a species of basket resembling that 
which is sometimes worn by the Chinese and Tartars. In character they 
were cunning, bold, ferocious, and, like the inhabitants of the Sandwich 
Islands, addicted to cannibalism. 

From thence they sailed along tho coast of America to Behring's Straits, 
in passing through which, they observed that both continents were visible 
at the same time. The expedition having in vain transversed the polar 
seas in search of the northwest passage, returned toward the south. Before 
issuing through tho belt of the Aleeootskian Islands into the Pacific, Cap- 
tain Cook remained some days at Onalaska, where Ledyard was engaged in 
an adventure highly characteristic of his intrepid and chivalrous disposition. 
Even on their fii-st landing, many peculiarities in the appearance and 
costume, no less than in the movable possessions of the people, strongly 
excited their curiosity ; for it was at once perceived that there existed two 
races of men upon the island, 'of which one might be supposed to be 
aboriginal, while the other might bo presumed to be adscititious ; an offshoot, 
in all probability, from the great Asiatic stock. They were in possession of 
tobacco, and, in many instances, woro blue linen shirts and drawers. The 
circumstance, however, which excited most surprise, was the appearance of 
a j'oung chief, bearing with him a cake of rye-meal newly baked, and con- 
taining a piece of salmon seasoned with pepper and salt, as a present to 
Captain Cook. He informed them, by signs, that there were white strangers 
in the country, who had come, like them, over the great waters in a large 
ship. 

This information excited in Cook a desire to explore the island. It was 
difficult, however, to dctcrraiuo in what manner the object was tp bo 



or AMERICANS. 95 

effected. An ,armeil body would proceed slowly, and might, perhaps, he 
cut off — an irrepar.iblo loss to the expedition. The risk of a single indi- 
vidual would he imminent, but his movements would be more rapid ; and 
if he should fall, the loss to the public would not bo groat. Yet, as tha 
commander did not think himself justified in ordering anj' person to under- 
take so perilous an enterprise, a volunteer was sought for ; and Ledyard pre- 
sented himself. The great navigator was highly pleased with this example 
of intrepidity, for the brave always sympatliize with the brave ; and after 
giving the traveler instructions how to proceed, "he wished me well," says 
Ledyard, " and desired I would not be longer absent than a weel<, if possible ; 
at the expiration of which he should expect me to return. If I did not 
return by that time, he should wait another week for me, and no longer." 

The young chief who brought Cook the rye-cake and the salmon, with 
two persons who attended him, were to serve as guides on the occasion. 
Being furnished with a small quantity of bread and some brandy in bottles, 
intended for presents to the Indians, our traveler departed with his Indian 
guides, and, during the first day, advanced about fifteen miles into the 
interior. About nightfall they arrived at a small village, consisting of about 
thirty huts, some of which were largo and spacious, though not very lofty. 
These huts were composed of a slight frame erected over a square hole sunk 
about four feet into the ground. Below the frame was covered with turf, 
which served as a wall, ana above it was thatched with grass. Though tne 
whole village, men, women, and children, crowded to see him, it was not 
with the intense curiosity which their behavior would have exhibited, had 
tiiey never before beheld a white man. Hero they passed the night. 

Their course had hitherto lain toward the north, but they, next morning, 
turned round toward the southwest. About throe hours before night they 
reached the edge of a large bay, where the chief entered into a cauoo, with 
all their baggage, and intimating to Ledyard that he was to follow his other 
companions, left him abruptly, and paddled across the bay. Although 
renderdd somewhat uneasy at this movement, he proceeded along the shore 
with his guides, and in about two hours, observed a canoe making toward 
tliem across the hay. Upon this they ran down to the water's edge, and, 
by shouting and waving bushes to and fro in the air, attracted the attention 
of the savages in the canoe. It w.as beginning to be dark, says he, when the 
canoe came to us. It was a skin canoe, after the Esquimaux plan, with two 
holes to accommodate two sitters. The Indians that came in the canoe 
talked a little with my two guides, and then came to me, and desired I 
would get into tlie canoe. This I did not very readily agree to, however, 
as there was no place for me but to bo thrust into the space between the 
holes, extended at length upon my back, and wholly excluded from seeing 
the way I went, or the power of extricating myself upon an emergency. 
But as there was no alternative, I submitted thus to be stowed away in bulk, 
and went head foremost very swift through the water about an hour, when 
I felt the canoe strike a beach, and afterward lifted up and carried some 
distance, and then set down again ; after which I was drawn out by the 
shoulders by three or four men ; fur it was now so dark that I could not tell 
who they were, though I was conscious I heard a language that was new. 
I was conducted by two of these persons, who appeared to be strangers, 



9(3 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

about forty rods, when I saw lights ami a number of huts like those I left in 
the morning. As we ajiproached one of them, a door opened and discov- 
ered a lamp, by which, to my great joy, I discovered that the two men who 
held me by each arm were Europeans, fair and comely, and concluded from 
their appearance they were Russians, which I soon after found to be true. 

By these Russians, who had established themselves in Onalaska for the 
purpose of collecting furs for the markets of Moscow and Petersburg, Lcd- 
yard was received and entertained in a most hospitable manner ; and when 
he returned to the ships, was accompanied by three of the principal persons 
among them, and several inferior attendants. " The satisfaction this dis- 
covery gave Cook," says he, " and the honor that redounded to me, may be 
easily imagined ; and the several conjectures respecting the appearance of a 
foreia;n intercourse were rectified and confirmed." 

From Onalaska the expedition sailed southward for the Sandwich Islands, 
and in two months arrived at Hawaii. On entering a commodious bay, dis- 
covered on the southern coast of the island, they observed, on each hand, ;i 
town of considerable size, from which crowds of people, to whom the 
appearance offered by the ships was totally new, crowded down to the beach 
to receive the strangers. Their number was prodigious. No less than three 
thousand canoes, containing at least fifteen thousand men, women, and 
children, were crowded in the bay ; and, besides these, numbers sustained 
themselves on floats, or swam about in the water. " The beach, the sur- 
rounding rocks, the tops of the houses, the branches of trees, and the adjacent 
hills, were all covered ; and the shouts of joy and admiration proceeding 
from the sonorous voices of the men, confused with the shriller exclama- 
tions of the women, dancing and clapping their hands, the oversetting of 
canoes, cries of the children, goods afloat, and hogs, that were brought to 
market, squeaking, formed one of the most curious prospects that can be 
imagined." Yet, amid all this vast multitude, no signs of hostility, no dispo- 
sition to insult or annoy the strangers appeared. Both parties were very far, 
at that moment, from anticipating that tragical event which shortly after- 
ward dyed their shores with blood, and rendered the name of Hawaii 
memorable in the history of discover)'. 

However, for the first few days extraordinary harmony prevailed. Visits 
were made and returned ; fireworks were exhibited by the English ; wrest- 
ling, boxing, and various other kinds of athletic exercises, by the savages. 
During this continuance of good humor, Ledyard obtained permission to 
make a tour in the interior of the island, for the purpose of examining the 
nature of the country, and of ascending, if possible, the peak of Mouna Eoa, 
which, though situated in an island not exceeding ninety miles in diameter, 
is regarded as one of the loftiest in the world. He was accompanied \>y the 
botanist and gunner of the Resolution, and by a number of natives, some as 
guides, others to carry the baggage. Admonished by the snows which 
glittered in dazzling pinnacles on the summit of Mouna Roa, they provided 
themselves with additional clothing to guard against the effects of a sudden 
transition from the heat of a tropical sun to intense cold. Their road during 
the first part of the journey lay through inclosed plantations of sweet 
potatoes, with a soil of lava, tilled in some places with difficulty. Hero 
and there, in moist situations, were small patches of sugar-cane ; and those, 



OF AMERICANS. 97 

as they proceeded, were followed by open plantations of 6rca<l-friiit trees. 
The land now began to ascend abrnptly, and was thickly covered with wild 
fern. About sunset they arrived on the skirts of the woods, which stretched 
round the mountain like a belt, at the uniform distance of four or five miles 
from the shore. Here they found an uninhabited but, in which they passed 
the night. 

Next morning, on entering the forest, they found there had been heavy 
rain during the night, though none of it had reached them at the distance 
of about two hundred yards. They traversed the woods by a compass, 
keeping in a direct line for the peak ; and, finding a beaten trade nearly in 
♦their com-se, were enabled on the second day to advance about fifteen miles. 
At night they rested under the shelter of a fallen tree, and early next morn- 
ing recommenced their joiirnej-. It was soon discovered, however, that the 
difficulties they h.id hitherto encountered were ease itself compared with 
those against which they were now to contend. To persons unaccustomed 
as they were to walk, a journey of so great a length would, under any cir- 
cumstances, have been a grievous task. But they were impeded in their 
movements by heavy burdens ; their path was steep, broken, and rugged ; 
and the farther they proceeded, the more dense and impenetrable did the 
thickets become. At length, it became evident that the enterprise must be 
abandoned ; and with those unpleasant feelings which accompany baffled 
ambition, they returned by the way they had gone to the ships. 

In less than a fortnight after their arrival at Hawaii, the iiscoverers, by 
their impolitic, or rather insolent behavior, had contrived to irritate the 
savage natives almost to desperation. They saw theraselve.'i, and, what 
perhaps wa.s more galling, their gods treated with silent contempt or open 
scorn ; while their wives and daughters were contaminated by the brutal 
lusts of the sailors. How far these circumstances were within the control of 
Captain Cook, or, in other words, to what degree of blame he is liable for 
what took place, it is not our present business to inquire. But assuredly, 
according to the testimony of Lcdyard, this great navigator seems, during 
the last few days of his life, to have been urged by a kind of fatality into 
the commission of actions highly despotic and unjustifiable in themselves, 
and, imder the circumstances in which they were performed, little short of 
insane. The mere idea of converting the fence and idols of the moral — 
objects sacred to them, however contemptible in our eyes — into firewood, 
argues a reprehensible disregard of the feelings of the natives. His offer of 
two hatchets to the priest in payment, reminds one of Captain Clapperton's 
promise of a couple of guns, a few flasks of powder, and some rockets to 
Sultan BcUo, as the price of his puiting doion the slave-trade. But when 
the priest refused the proffered payment, not so much on account of its pre- 
posterous inadequacy — of which, however, savage as he was, he must have 
been fully sensible — because, in his eyes, no price was an equivalent for 
article.'!, to destroy which would be sacrilege, to proceed with a strong band 
in the work of destruction, profaning the spot which contained the ashes of 
their ancestors, and throwing down and bearing away the images of their 
gods. This was an outrage which the tamest and most enslaved race would 
have found it difficult to endure. 



OS ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

However, force was triumpliant ; but from that moment the souls of the 
natives were on fire, and rovengo was determined on. A reUxtion of the 
various incidents and small events by which the tragic action moved 
onward to its completion, would be incompatible with my present design. 
Captain Cook, accompanied by an armed force, in which Ledyard was 
included, went on shore for the purpose of making the king a prisoner, and 
of keeping him iu confinement on board, until certain articles stolen by his 
subjects should be restored. The savages, with a boldness worthy of admira- 
tion, opposed his designs, and compelled him to retreat toward his boats. 
Here, as the marines were endeavoring to embark, a contest took place ; 
stones were thrown by the natives ; the English flew to their firearms ; and 
a chief, rushing on with an iron dagger in bis hand, stabbed Cook through 
the body. His guards, likewise, were all cut oft" excepting two, who escaped 
by swimming. The cannon of the Resolution were now fired at the crowd, 
and this produced an almost instantaneous retreat; though the savages, 
mindful even in the midst of danger of the gratification of their appetite, 
took care to carry along with them the bodies of their fallen enemies ; in 
order, by feasting upon them at their leisure, to derive some trifling comfort 
from their disaster. 

The business now was to retire as quickly as possible from the island, 
which they did ; and having again entered Bohring's Strait, and sailed about 
for some time among the ices of the Polar Sea, they returned by way of 
China and the Cape of Good Hope to England, after an absence of four 
years and throe months. 

In 17S2 Ledyard sailed on board an English man-of-war for America, 
not with a design to serve against his country, but determined on seizing 
the first occasion of escape which should offer itself. An opportunity soon 
occnrred. On arriving at Long Island, then in the possession of the English, 
he obtained permission of seven days' absence from the ship, for the purpose 
of seeing his mother, who then kept a boavding-house at Southold, occupied 
chiefly by British officers. "He rode up to the door, alighted, went in, and 
asked if he could be accommodated in her house as a lodger. She replied 
that he could, and showed him a room into which his baggage was con- 
veyed. After having adjusted his dress, he came out and took a seat by 
the fire, in company with several other ofiicers, without making himself 
krown to his mother, or entering into conversation with any person. 
She frequently passed and repassed through the room, and her eye was 
observed to be attracted toward him with more than usual attention. He 
still remained silent. At last, after looking at him steadily for some min- 
utes, she deliberately put on her spectacles, approached nearer to him, 
begging his pardon for her rudeness, and telling him that he so much 
resembled a son of hers, who had been absent for eight years, that she could 
iiol resist her inclination to view him more closely. The scene tliat followed 
may be imagined, but not described ; for Ledyard had a tender heart, and 
affection for his mother was among its deepest and most constant emotions." 

He now visited his old friends and many of the places which youthful 
recollections rendered dear to him. He was everywhere well received, and 
employed the leisure which he now enjoyed for several months, in writing 



OF AMERICANS. 99 

nn account of his voyage round the world with Captain CooIj. Cut when 
this was done, many motives, among which want of money was not iho 
least, ur<;ed him to enter upon some new plan of life. His favorite project 
at this time, and indeed throughout the remainder of his life, was a voyage 
of commerce and discovery to the northwestern coast of America ; and 
during the remainder of his stay in his native country he made numerous 
efforts to obtain wealthy co-operators in his design. Being constantly dis- 
appointed, however, he once more turned his thouglits toward Europe, 
where the spirit of speculation was bolder and more liberal, and proceede<l 
to France. Hero his projects were eagerly patronized, and as easily 
abandoned ; and d\iring a long stay, both at L'Orient and Paris, he subsisted 
by shifts and expedients, associating by turns with every variety of char- 
acter, from Jefferson down to Paul Jones. 

How he existed at all, unless upon the bounty of his frier.ds, is altogether 
inexplicable. He was now reduced to the character of a mere adventurer, 
and his life, during this period, affords no incidents worthy of being 
described. An Englishman, who had given him fifteen guineas at St. 
Germain, shortly afterward invited him to London, and procured him a 
passage in a ship bound for the Pacific Ocean, with a promise from the 
captain that be would set him on shore upon any point of the northwest 
coast which he might choose. He now once more appeared to be verging 
toward the accomp'.ishniont of his de^irest wishes, lie embarked ; the 
vessel sailed down the Thames, and put out to sea ; but before they were 
out of sight of land, the ship was brought back by an order from the govern- 
ment, and the voyage was finally abandoned. 

Ledyard's enthusiasm, however, in the prosecution of his designs, though 
it is probable that few could perceive the advantages to be derived from 
their accomplishment, procured him many friends in London ; and it is said 
that a subscription was set on foot by Sir Joseph Banks, Dr. Hunter, Sir 
James Hall, and Colonel Smith. From the result of this measure, we must 
inevitably infer one or two things — either that the liberality of those gentle- 
men was exceedingly scanty, or that their opinion of Ledyard's prudence 
was very low. From several circumstances which afterward toolc place, the 
latter is the more probable inference. Be this as it may, we find him, on 
his arriv.al at Hamburgh, with no more than tea guineas in his pocket ; and 
these, with reckless and unpardonable absurdity, ho bestowed upon a Major 
Langhorn, an eccentric vagabond, who, after accepting his money and 
reducing him to beggary, coolly refused to bear him company ou his 
journey to Petersburg ; alleging, as his excuse, that he could travel in fjte 
way he did with no man upon earth. What his mode of traveling was, wo 
have no means of ascertaining ; but from his conduct in this transaction, it 
may be inferred, without any great stretch of uncharitableness, that Ledyard 
was fortunate in getting rid of such a companion at the expense of all he 
was worth in the world. The man who is insensible of a generous action, 
oonld be no desirable companion in any circumstances of life ; but to bo 
linked with such an individual in traversing a foreign land, would have 
been a curse which few who have not experienced a similar calamity can 
conceive. 



100 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Having at the same time bade adieu to his money and the graceless 
major, he began to experience the effects of his folly ; for had he not, by- 
singular good fortune, found a merchant who consented to accept a bill on a 
friend in London, and pay him the amount, his travels must have terminated 
where he was. This supply, however, enabled him to pursue his route. 

On arriving at Stockholm, Ledyard found that the Gulf of Bothnia was 
neither sufficiently frozen to enable him to cross it upon the ice, nor yet free 
ono'ugh from ice to be navigable. Under these circumstances he formed the 
daring resolution of traveling round the gulf, a distance of twelve hundred 
miles, "over trackless snows, in regions thinly peopled, where the nights are 
long, and the cold intense — and all this to gain no more than fifty miles." 
Accordingly, he set out for Tornea, in the depth of winter, on foot, with 
little money in his pocket, and no friends to whom he could apply when 
his small stock should be exhausted. Of this part of his travels no account 
remains. Other travelers who have visited Tornea in winter, under the 
most favorable circumstances, describe in tremendous colors the horroi'S of 
the place. "The place," says Maupertuis, "on our arrival, on the 30th of 
December, had really a most frightful aspect. Its little houses were buried 
to the tops in snow, which, if there had been any daylight, must have 
efTcctually shut it out. But the snow continually falling, or ready to fall, 
for the most part, hid the sun the few moments that he might have .showed 
himself at midday. In the month of January the cold was increased to the 
extremity, that Reaumur's mercurial thermometers, which, in Paris, in the 
great frost of 1709, it wa.s thought strange to see fall to fourteen degrees 
below the freezing jjoint, were now down to thirty-seven. The spirit of 
wine in the others was frozen. If we opened the door of a warm room, the' 
external air instantly converted all the air in it into snow, whirling it round 
in white vortices. If we went abroad, we felt as if the air were tearing our 
breasts to pieces." 

Such was the comitry through which Ledyard made his way to Peters- 
burg, which he reached on the 20th of March, that is, within seven weeks 
from his leaving Stockholm, making the distance traveled over, about two 
hundred miles per week, upon an average. Here he was well received by 
Professor Pallas and other scientific men ; and through the interest of Count 
Segur, the French embassador, obtained the empress' permission to traverse 
her vast dominions. As he was compelled to wait several months, liow- 
ever, for this indispensable document, and was destitute, on his arrival at 
Petersburg, of money, and almost of clothes, he drew a bill of twenty 
guineas on Sir Joseph Banks, which he was fortunate enough to get some 
one to discount. This enabled him to await the leisure of Catharine, who 
was too deeply plunged in her schemes of debauchery and ambition, to 
afford a thought on a poor houseless wanderer like Ledyard. But at length 
the passport was granted ; and a Dr. Brown happening at that moment to 
be proceeding with a quantity of stores to Yakutsk, for the use of Mr. 
Billings, who was then employed by the empress in exploring the remoter 
parts of Siberia and Kamt.schatka, our traveler obtained permission to 
accompany him. 

They left Petersburg on the 1st of June, and in sis days after arrived at 



OF AMERICANS. 101 

Moscow. Here tliey liirud a kibitka, and proceeded at the same rapid rate 
toward Kezan, ou the Volga, where they remained a week ; and then set off 
on the full gallop for Tobolsk. It should bo remarked, that Ledyard's 
object in this journey was not to see the country, but to reach the north- 
west coast of America, where ho hoped to make some useful discoveries, as 
quickly as possible ; otherwise it would have been far wiser to have "made 
his logs his compasses," at the risk of consuming years in the journej'. In 
the vast plain which stretches from Moscow to the Ural Mountains, there 
was, it is true, very little of the picturesque, and not much of the moral, to 
captivate the eye or interest the mind of a traveler ; but there is no country, 
the careful examination of which may not be made to yield both amuse- 
ment and instruction. Ledyard, however, was not answerable for the 
rapidity of his movements ; he accounted himself but too happy in being 
allowed to share Dr. Brown's kibitka; and had it been in the empress' 
power to have darted him across Siberia upon an iceberg, or astride upon a 
cloud, he would not have objected to the conveyance. 

From Tobolsk they proceeded to Beriiaoul, tlie cajiital of the province of 
Kolyvan, where Dr. Brown's journey terminated. At this place Ledyard 
remained a whole week, and was entertained in a very hospitable manner 
by the treasurer of the mines. He observes, that the immense plain he had 
traversed in reaching this city, was in many places dotted with large mounds 
of earth, which very much resembled those supposed monumental piles 
found among various tribes of North America, and the barrows or heroic 
tombs of ancient Europe. In the people the Tartar features began to 
.ippear before they reached Kazan. But there existed great variety in the 
population ; the same village containing every variety of mankind, from 
tliose with fair skin, light hair, and white eyes, to those of olive complexion, 
and jet-black eyes and hair. Poverty, as may be supposed, was no stranger 
in these villages; for they had not, like the Chremylus of Aristophanes, 
discovered the secret of restoring sight to Plutus ; but this did not dis- 
courage the fair moieties of the peasants from painting their faces, like a 
discontented English beauty, both with red and white. As these damsels 
are not niggardly of their kisses, it would be useless for them to adopt the 
custom which prevailed among the ancient Greek ladies, of painting the 
lips; but this, it would seem, is the solo consideration which opposes tha 
introduction of the custom. " The Tartar, however situated," says Ledyard, 
"is a voluptuary ; and it is an original and striking trait in their character, 
from the grand seignior to him who pitches his tent on the wild frontiers of 
Russia and China, that they are more addicted to real sensual pleasure than 
any other people." This is a judicious remark, and corroborates the testi- 
mony of the ancient historian, who tells us that the Scythian ladies were 
accustomed to put out the eyes of their male slaves, that they might be 
ignorant of the name and quality of the mistresses to whoso wantonness 
they were made subservient. 

From Bernanul he proceeded with an imperial courier to Tomsk, discover- 
ing, as he rode along, marks of the tremendous winds which sometimes 
devastate Siberia. The trees of the forest were uprooted, and whole fields 
of grain were beaten into the earth. Hurrying onward in the same rapid 



102 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

manner, he crossed the Yenisei at Krasnojarsk, ami entered a longh, moini- 
taiuous country, covered with thiclc forests, which continued all the waj' to 
Irkutsk, where he arrived in ten days after leaving Tomsk. 

Durins; his stay in this town, he made an excursion, in company with & 
German colonel, to the Lake Baikal, which, in the Kalmuck language, 
signifies the "North Sea." Arriving on the shores of the lake, they 
found a galliot, which, in summer, jilies a packet across the "North 
Sea." In this galliot they went out with line and lead to take sound- 
ings ; but having only fifty fathoms of line, which at one hundred feet 
from the shore was wholly taken np, they quickly abandoned their 
soundings, and returned through the rain in the galliot's boat to 
Irkutsk. 

On the 26th of August, he quitted Irkutsk, and proceeded toward the 
point where he was to embark on the River Lena for Yakutsk. The country 
in this part w'as well cultivated, and therefoie cheerful ; but the forest trees 
had already begun to drop their foliage, and put on the garb of autumn. 
Having proceeded one hundred and fifty miles in his kibitka, he embarked 
■with Lieutenant Laxnian, a Swede, in a boat on the Lena, and commenced 
a voj'age of fourteen hundred miles. Their boat was carried along at the 
rate of eighty or a hundred miles per da}', "the river gradually increasing 
in size, and the mountain scenery putting on an infinite variety of forms, 
alternately sublime and picturesque, bold and fantastic, with craggy rocks 
and jutting headlands, bearing on their brows the verdure of pines, larches, 
and other evergreens and alpine shrubs." All the way to Yakutsk the 
river was studded with islands, which recuning at short intervals, added to 
the romantic effect of the scenery ; but the weather .was growing cold, and 
heavy fogs hung over the river until a late hour in the morning. The 
mountains flanking the river were said to abound ^vith wolves and bears ; 
and there was an abundance of wild fowl, of which our travelers shot as 
many as they pleased. Salmon-trout were plentiful in the river ; and the 
inhabitants fished with seines, and also with spears, like the natives of 
Tahiti, by torchlight. 

On the 18th of September he arrived at Yakutsk, where he immediately 
waited on the commandant W'ith his letters of recommendation, and ex- 
plained his desire of proceeding with all possible celerity to Okotsk, before 
winter should shut in and cut off his progress. The commandant, however, 
had received secret orders to detain him ; and under pretense that the seasTO 
was already too far advanced, informed him that he must pass the winter at 
Yakutsk. Though nothing could exceed the vage and vexation of Ledyard 
at this unexpected disappointment, he was sensible that it was necessary to 
submit; the determination of the despots around him being as irresistible 
as destiny. He therefore bent his attention to the consideration of the 
objects within his reach ; aTid in those compulsory studies awaited the return 
o-f spring. 

In the journal of his Siberian travels, he discourses upon a variety of 
interesting topics. Among these was his celebrated eulogy on ,voman. This 
is regarded as the most beautiful and touching tribute to the moral superi- 
ority of the female character in the whole range of literature. It shows one 



OP AMERICAXS. 103 

of the sources of consolation to the lone traveler in his wanderings over tho 
world ; and exhibits, also, the warm affections of a grateful heart toward 
the sex, to whom alone can be applied, the loving, tender words — " sister," 
"wife," "mother." 



LEDVARD S EULOGY ON WOMAN. 

" I have obsurvcil amoug iiU ii.itions that the women ornameut 
themselves more than the uicu: that wherever fouuJ they are the 
same kiutl. civil, oblijjiug, humauc, tender hciuys ; that they are 
ever inclined to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest. They 
do not hesitate, like man, to perform a hospitable, generous actiou ; 
not haughty, uor arrogant, nor supercilious, but full of courtesy, 
and fond of society ; industrious, economical, ingenuous ; more 
hable, in general, to err than man, but in general, also, more 
vii'tuous, and performing more good actious than he. I never 
addressed myself in the language of decency and friendship to a 
WOMAN, whether civilized or savage, without receiving a decent aud 
friendly answer. With man it has often been otherwise. In 
wandering over the barren plaius of iuhospitable Denmark, through 
honest Sweden, frozen Lapland, rnde and churlish Finland, un- 
principled Kussia, and the wide-spread regions of the wandering 
Tartar, if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick, woman has ever been 
friendly to me, aud uniformly so; and to add to this virtue so 
worthy of the appellation of benevolence, these actious have been 
performed in so free and so kind a mauuer, that if I was dry I 
di'auk the sweet draught, and if hungiy, ate the coarse morsel with 
a double relish." 



During Ledyard's weary sojourn at Yakutsk, Captain Billings, who had been 
on an expedition by order of the Empress Catherine, arrived in the place. He 
was formerly intimate with Ledyard, having been an assistant to the as- 
tronomer Uayless, during the last voyage of Cook, lie W'as astonished and 
gratified at meeting with Ledyard in the heart of Siberia. Remaining there 
during five weeks, they set out together for Irkutsk in sledges over the ice 
of the river Lena, a distance of fifteen hundred miles, which they reached in 
seventeen days ; there, by order of the empress, Ledyard was arrested on the 
24th of the ensuing February, upon a false allegation that he was a French 
spy. He was closely guarded, whirled in sledges over the suow, through 
the intense cold of a Siberian winter to Moscow, to answer the charge. In 
this condition he wrote the following: "My ardent hopes are once more 
blasted, when almost half accomplished. What secret machinations have 
been at work ? Wliat motive ? But so it suits her royal majesty of all tho 
Itussi;vs, and she has nothing but her pleasure to consult ; she has no 
nation's resentment to apprehend, for 1 am the minister of no Slate no 
monarch ; I travel under tlie common flag of humanity, commissioned by 
myself to serve the world at large; and so the poor, the uni)rotectod 
wanderer, must go where the sovereign will ordains; if to deatli, uliy then 
iny journeying will be over sooner, aud rather ditferently from \vh;it I con- 



104 ADVKNTURES AND ACIilFA'EMEXTS 

tBniplated ; if otherwise, why then the royal dame has taken me much out 
of my way. But I pursue auolher route. The rest of the worUl lies un- 
inteniicted. Though horn in the freest of the civilized countries, yet in 
the i)resent state of privation, I have a more exquisite sense of the amiable, 
the immortal nature of liberty, than I ever had before." lie continues these 
remarks at some length, deidoring his arrest, as an interference with bia 
plans, but bowing with submissive stoicism to the strokes of fate. 

The result of his arrest, was his banishment to the frontiers of Poland, 
and beinc forbidden on pain of death to re-enter the Russian domicioiis. 
Speaking of tliis, he says : "Cruelties and hardships are tales I leave untold. 
I was disappointed in the pursuit of an object on which my future fortune 
entirely depended. I know not how I passed through the kingdoms of 
Poland and Prussia, or frnin thence to London, where I arrived in the 
bef inning of May, disappointed, ragged, penniless ; and yet, so accustomed 
am I to such things, that I declare my heart was whole. My health, for 
the first time, had suffered from my confinement, and the amazing rapidity, 
with which I had been carried through the illimitable wilds of Tartary and 
Kussia. But my liberty regained, and a few days' rest among the beautifui- 
daughters of Isreal, in Poland, re-established it, and I am now in as full 
bloom and vigor as thirty-seven years will afford any man. Jarvis says I 
look much older than when he saw me three summers ago at Paris, which 
1 can readily believe. An American face does not wear well, like an 
American heart. 

It would be now idle to inquire into the motives W'hich urged that old 
profligate despot, the Empress Catherine, into such an act of flagrant injus- 
tice, as the seizure of Ledyard. She had, no doubt, been told that his 
success might be in some way or another detrimental to her commerce ; and 
without consideration or inquiry, jierhaps in one of her furious fits of rage 
or drunkenness, she issued the_ order for his recall, which was executed 
with no less barbarity tlian it was given. 

On his arrival at London, Ledyard, unsubdued by the bitterness of past 
disappointments, determined to enter upon some new theater of adventure; 
for, in his case, as with wanderers generalh", the passion for travel but in- 
creased by indulgence. 

At this time he wrote an afi"ectionate letter to his mother, from which the 
following is an extract : " I wrote you last from this place nearly two years 
ago, but I suppose you heard of me at Petersburgh, by Mr. Franklin, of 
New York. I promised to write you from the remote parts of Siberia. I 
promise everything to those I love, and so does fortune to me sometimes ; 
but we reciprocally prevent each other from fulfilling our engagements. 
S/ic. left me so poor in Siberia that I could not write you, because I could not 
J'ravk the letter !" lie goes on to explain the nature of his anticipated trip 
to Africa, speaks of his engagement with the association, and amplifies upon 
its expected results, giving assurances in the meantime of his most intense 
filial love. He also sent her specimens of the wearing apparel he had used 
in Siberia : " Such as I have worn," he says, " through many a scene, and 
was glad to get them." 

"The surtout coat is made of reindeer skin, and edged with the dewlap of 
the moose. It was made for a riding coat, and I have rode both horses and 



OF AMEUICAXS. 105 

deer with it. The first cap is of tlie Siberian rod los aliiii ; it is a traveling 
cap, and tlie form is entirely Tiirtar. Tlie second cap is Russian, consisting 
of white erminS, and bordered with blue fox skin ; it cost me at Yakutsk 
twenty-live roubles, which is four guineas and one rouble. The surtout 
coat cost seventy roubles ; and the fox skin cap, six. The gloves are made 
of the feet of the fox, and lined with Tartar hare, and cost five roubles. 
The frock is in form and style truly Tartar. It was presented to me, and 
came from the borders of the Frozen Ocean, at the mouth of the river 
Kolyma. It is made of a spotted reindeer calf; the edging is the same u-i 
that on the surtout. 

The boots are of reindeer skin, ornamented with European cloth ; the 
form is Tartar : they cost eight roubles. The socks are made of the skin of 
an old reindeer. Tlie cloak in which they are wrapped up, was made in 
London. I traveled on foot with it in Denmark, Sweden, Lapland, Fin- 
land — the Lord knows where. I have slept in it, eat in it, drank in it, 
fought in it, negotiated in it. Through every scene, it has been my constant 
and hard}' servant, from my departure till my return to London. And now 
to give it an asylum — for I have none — I send it to you. Lay it up ; as 
soon as I can I will call and lay myself up with it." It seems that he sent 
his mother nearly a complete suit of his traveling clothes, sufficient, at any 
rate, to give a correct idea of her erratic son's appearance, among the frozen 
wilds of Siberia. 'T was well he did — he never "called and laid himself 
up with them." 

Another field was now opened to tlie enterprise of Lcdyard. lie was 
taken into the service of the African As.sociation, which was composed of 
some of the first characters in England, the object of which was to promote 
discoveries in the interior of that continent. 

"For many ages the continent of Africa had been a neglected portion of 
the globe, of which the rest of the world had taken little account. The 
learning, and splendor, and prowess of Egypt were departed ; Carthage, with 
all its glory, had sunk into the dust ; the proud monuments of Jsuraidian 
greatness had been blotted from the face of the earth, and almost from the 
memory of man. The gloom of this scene was heightened, not more by 
the ravages of time in destroying what had been, than by the contrasts 
which succeeding changes had produced. A semibarbarous population, 
gathered from the wrecks of fallen nations, enemies to the arts, and to the 
best social interests of man, had gradually spread themselves over the whole 
northern borders of Africa, and presented a barrier to the hazards of enter- 
prise, no less than to the inroads of civilization. Whatever might bo the 
ardor for discovery, and the disregard of danger, nobody cared to penetrate 
into these regions, where all was uncertainty, and where the cliance of 
success bore no proportion to the perils that must be encountered. 

There is no question, that the northern half of Africa was better known to 
the Romans at the time of Julius Cassar, than to the Europeans in the mid- 
dle of the eighteenth centurj-, A few scattered names of rivers, town.s, and 
nations, occupied the map of the interior, traced there by a liesitating hand, 
on the dubious authority of the Nubian geographer Edrissi, and the Spanish 
traveler Leo Africanus. The rhymes of Swift on this subject, were not more 
witty than true. 



106 ADVE,N'TURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

"Geograiihers, in Afiic: inap^, 
■With saviigc pictures fill tlitii- gaps, 
And o'er uuliabitable dowus. 
Place elopliauts, for want of towns." 

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Leo penetrated as far as Timbuc- 
too and the Kiger ; but so imperfect were his descriptions, even of what he 
saw, that very little geographical knowledge was communicated by them, 
lie was on the banks of the Niger ; but it could not be ascertained from hia 
account, whether this river ran to the cast or west, nor, indeed, whether it 
existed as a separate stream. 

In short, down to the time when the African Association was formed, 
almost the whole of this vast ccnitinent, its geography and physical resources, 
its inhabitants, governments, langu.ages, were a desideratum !n the history 
of nature and of man. It could not be doubted, that many miUions of 
human beings inhabited these hidden regions. Nor were the character and 
condition of these people, their institutions and soci.al advancement, mere 
matters of curiosity ; they had a relation to the people of other p.arts of the 
globe, and, when discovered and understood, might be turned to the com- 
mon advantage of the great human family. There are uo nations that may 
not profit by an intercourse between each other, either by an exchange of 
jn-oducts peculiar to each, or by a reciprocal moral influence, or by both. 
Oji these broad and benevolent principles the society for promoting dis- 
coveries in Africa was instituted, and the scheme was worthy of the er>- 
Hghtened philanthropists by whom it was devised." 

On the committee of the African Association, at the time the arrange- 
ment with Ledyard was made, was Sir Joseph Banks, through whosa 
agency he became connected with the enterprise. The preliminary inter- 
view which Ledyard had with Sir Joseph on this subject, is thus described 
by Mr. Beaujoy, then secretary f)f the African Association : "Sir Joseph 
Banks, who knew his temper, told him that he believed he could recom- 
mend him to an adventure almost as perilous as the one from which he had 
returned ; and then communicated to him the wishes of the association, for 
discovering the inland countries of Africa. Ledyard replied, that he had 
always determined to traverse the continent of Africa, as soon as he had 
ex])lored the interior of North America; and as Sir Joseph had offered him 
a letter of introduction, he came directly to the writer of these memoirs. 
Before I had learned from the note the name and business of my visitor, I 
was struck with the manliness of his person, the breadth of his chest, the 
openness of his countenance, the inquietude of his eye. I spread the map 
of Africa before him, and tracing a litio from Cairo to Sennaar, and passed 
thence in the latitude and supposed direction of the Niger, I told him that 
was the route by which I was anxious that Africa might, if possible, be ex- 
plored, lie said he should think himself singularly fortunate to be trusted 
with the adventure. I asked him when he would set out. 'To-moreow 
MORNING !' was his answer. I told him I was afraid that we should not be 
able, in so short a time, to prepare his instructions, and to procure for him 
the letters that were requisite ; but that if the committee approved of his 
proposals, all expedition should be used." 



OF AMEIIICAXS. 107 

This interview is one of the most wonderful instances of decision of 
character on record. Xotwithstanding his recent bitter experience, enough 
to have crushed the most romantic enthusiasm, Ledyard was ready to face 
death, by encountering new and unheard-of perils in the heart of Africa. 
Any other man would long have hesitated ere they would have decided to 
embark on suoli a mission, and none, except the bravest, but what would 
then have quailed in view of its dangers : yet Ledyard, superior to all fear 
in the prompt decision of an elevated spirit, gave the unexpected and sur- 
prising answer : " To-morrow mornimj, sir ! " 

Ledyard was in a situation now better suited to his wishes and nature, 
than ever before. From the position of seeker, he had attained, by the 
exhibition of his superior qualities, that of the sougld, and with entire inde- 
pendence he could press his restless foot on the jilains of Africa. Buoyed 
up with expectation, he thus wrote to his mother : " Truly it is written, 
' that the ways of God are past finding out, and his decrees unsearchable.' 
Is the Lord thus great ? So also he is good. I am an instance of it. I 
have trampled the world under my feet, laughed at fear, and derided 
danger. Through millions of fierce savages, over parching deserts, the 
freezing north, the everlasting ice, and stormy seas, have I passed without 
harm. How good is ray God ! AVhat rich subjects have I for praise, love, 
and adoration. I have just returned to England, from my travels of two 
years, and am going away into Africa to examine that continent. I expect 
to be absent three years. I shall be in Egypt as soon as I can get there, 
and after that, go into unknown parts. I have full and perfect health. 
Remember me to my brothers and sisters. Desire them to remember me, 
for if heaven permits, I shall see them again. I pray God to bless and 
comfort you all. Farewell." 

The character he intended to assume in Africa, was tliat of a trader in a 
caravan, which was very appropriate ; such persons crossing and recrossing 
the country continually, in that position without molestation. 

On the 30th of June, 1788, Ledyard, for the last tiuie, left London, en 
route for Africa. On the morning of his departure, in conversation with a 
friend, he spoke as follows, concerning his checkered life: "I am accus- 
tomed to hardships. I have known both hunger and nakedness, to the 
utmost extremity of human suffering. I have known what it was to have 
food given me as charity to a madman ; and I have at times been obliged to 
shcjlter myself under the miseries of that character, to avoid a heavier 
calamity. My distresses have been greater than I have owned, or ever will 
own to any man. Such evils are terrible to bear ; but they never yet had 
power to turn me from my purpose. If I live, I will faithfully perform, in 
its utmost extent, my engagement to the society ; and if I perish in the 
attempt, my honor will be safe, for death cancels all bonds." 

Ledyard proceeded direct to Pari.s, where he had encouraging interviews 
with Jefferson and Lafayette. Prom tluiuce he went to jilarseilles, and 
crossed the Mediterranean to Alexandria, in Eirypf, and passed up the Xile 
to Cairo. From Cairo he wrote the association a letter, which showed his 
zeal in their cause, and his great aims in life. " Money ! " exclaims he, "is 
a vile slave ! I have at present an economy of a more exalted kind to 
observe. I have the eyes of some '>f the first men, of the first kingdom on 



lOS ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEYEMEXTS 

earth turned upon me. I am engaged by those very men, in the most im- 
portant object that any private individual can be engaged in. I have their 
approbation to acquire or to lose ; and their esteem, also, which I prize 
beyond everything, except the independent idea of serving mankind. 
Should rashness or desperation carry me through, whatever fame the vain 
and injudicious might bestow, I should not accept of it ; it is the good and 
great I look to — Fame bestowed by them is altogether different, and ia 
closely allied to a 'Well done,' from God." 

But little remains to be said of John Ledyard ; what toil, suffering, and 
hardship could not do, was accomplished by disease. Expecting soon to 
start with the caravan for Sinnaar, and ardently anxious to accomplish his 
mission to the satisfaction of the association, he wrote a long letter to Jeffer- 
son, in the course of which he said : " From Cairo, I am to travel southwest 
about three hundred miles, to a black king. Then my present conductors 
will leave me to my fate. Beyond, I suppose, I shall go alone. I expect 
to cut the continent across, between the parallels of twelve and twenty 
degrees of north latitude. If possible, I shall write you from the kingdom 
of this black gentleman." 

This was the last letter over known to have been written by Ledyard to 
anyone ; the next arrivals from Cairo, conveyed the mournful intelligence of 
his death. Exposed, as he was, to the heat of the tropics and uncongenial 
atmospheric influences, in the midst of the sickly season, he became tha 
victim of a severe bilious attack. To relieve it, he took a large dose of 
vitriolic acid, which produced an intense burning in the brain, that threatened 
the most serious consequences. Resort was had to a tartar emetic, with 
hopes that the acid would be evacuated. It was of no avail. He con- 
tinued to sink rapidly, though the best medical skill that could be had was 
called into requisition, lie died in November, 1788, ia the 38th year of 
his age. 

Ledyard was amiable, and kind, grateful for benefits, humane, and re- 
markable for his disinterestedness. His primary object in his travels, was to 
benefit mankind by his discoveries. Mr. Bcaujoy, the secretary of the 
African Association, thus describes him : " To those who have never seen 
Mr. Ledyard, it may not, perhaps, be uninteresting to know that his person, 
though scarcely exceeding the middle size, was remarkably expressive of 
activity and strength, and that his manners, though unpolished, were neither 
unpleasing nor uncivil. Little attentive to difference of rank, he seemed to 
consider all men as his equals, and as such he respected them. His genius, 
though uncultivated and irregular, was original and comprehensive. Ardent 
in his wishes, yet calm in his deliberations ; daring in his purposes, but 
guarded in his measures ; impatient of control, yet capable of strong endu- 
rance ; adventurous beyond the conception of ordinary men, yet wary and 
considerate, and attentive to all precautions, he appeared to be formed by 
nature for achievements of hardihood and peril." 



THE HEROIC ADVENTURE 



FRANCIS HUGER, 

A VOUNG MAS OF SOUTH CAROLINA, AND OF HI3 COMPANION, DR. BOLLMAN, IN THEIR 
ATTEMPTED RESCUE OF GENERAL LA FAVETTE, FROM AN 

AUSTRIAN PHISON AT OLMUTZ. 



During the frenzy of the French Revolution, nearly every citizen, emi- 
nent for worth or public services, buciime, in turn, the object of suspicion 
and denunciation to the violent men, who for a time controlleil the destinies 
of France. La Faj-ette, whose devotion to the cause of liberty had been 
proved by his services and sacrifices in aid of the revolted American Colo- 
nies, did not escape the common fate of the patriotic and the good in that 
dark day of distrust and terror. 

He was denounced in the National Assembly, and Danton and Brissot 
had the extreme satisfaction of procurinj; a decree of accusation to be passed 
against hira in that body. New commissioners were appointed and dis- 
patched to apprehend hira, his property was confiscated, a price was set on 
his head, and all citizens were charged to assist in apprehending him, and 
were authorized to kill him wherever he should be found. Finding that no 
reliance could be placed on his army for protection, but that defection and 
desertion, through the influence of the Jacobin terror, were increasing ; and 
seeing, under such circumstances, no prospect of benefiting his country, La 
Fayette decided on flight as the only means of saving his life. 

With this intention, he invited three of his friends, Generals Lalour 
Maubourg, Alexander Lameth, and Bureau de Puzy, the commandant of 
engineers, to come to his tent at midnight on the 19th of August. It was 
decided that they would leave an ungrateful country, governed by a faction, 
which sought for their blood, and that they would cross Brabant .and reach 
Holland, from whence they could embark for the United States of America. 

Early the next day, La Fayette, accompanied bj' his three friends, who had 
been members of the National Assembly with him, and who alone wore in 
the secret, together with their aids-dc-camp, and a part of their stafi', set 
off on horseback as if to reconnoiter. Having arrived at an inn, two or 
three leagues from the camp, they dismounted and entered the house, plac- 
ing sentinels at the door to prevent a surprise from the enemy's patrols. 
General La Fayette then confided to these officers, twenty-three in number, 
the state of the country; the feelings of the army; the before unknown 
facts, that the Jacobin society, and the municipality of Paris, had devoted 
him to proscription, that the corporation of the same city had caused the 
dies of the medal, which was to have been struck to his honor, to bo broken 

[1091 



110 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

by the lumls of the common cxoeutioner, and that he was deoUirud to be ac 
enemy to his country, and a price was set upon his head. He finished, by 
informing them of his determination to quit the country for a time, and 
til at he should consider as his enemy any man who should propose to march 
against her. 

Notwithstanding this injunction, these young soldiers unanimously de- 
clared, that there was but one way left, to save their country and their 
general, which was to march directly to Paris, and disperse the Jacobin 
faction at once. But the general soon convinced them that such a step 
ought not to be thought of, and as none of them had been proscribed except 
himself, he thought that all had better return peaceably and immediately to 
the camp, lest their absence should excite suspicion. 

JTotwithstanding all his remonstrances to the contrary, several of them 
determined to leave France, and share the fate of their general, whatever 
it might be. These young men were the two Mauboiirgs, Bureau de Puzy, 
Lameth, Masson, Rene, Pillet, and Cardingan. His faithful valet, Ponten- 
nier, and Augustus one of his servants, who afterward voluntarilj' shared all 
his imprisonments from Luxembourg to Olmutz, asked the liberty to follow 
their master. The rest were persuaded to return, and take with them La 
Fayette's escort, consisting of one hundred and fifty cavalry. 

La Fay.ette then set out with his seven companions, harassed with the 
most trying reflections upon his own situation, that of his family and coun- 
try, and upon the danger which threatened him. After a rapid and unin- 
terrupted journey, they arrived, toward night, in the neighborhood of an 
advanced guard of the Austrian army. Here they halted, and deliberated 
upon the steps to be taken. It was near eleven o'clock at night, none of them 
knew the road, and the darkness was such as to make it impossible to find it. 
In this state of embarrassment, rendered more so from the fear that the French 
were in pursuit of them, they determined at all hazards to proceed, and, 
without discovering their names or rank, to demand permission of the 
Austrian commander to pass him, with the intention of taking refuge in 
Holland, at that time a neutral territory. This resolution being taken. 
Colonel de Puzy, the only individual of the party who spoke German, ad- 
vanced toward the Austrian officer, who received him very politely. He 
informed him that he and his companions had deserted from the French 
array, finding themselves compelled to leave the countr\-, in consequence of 
intrigue and faction, and that they desired a safe passage into Holland. 
The officer expressed his regret, that he was unable to give a decided an- 
swer, without first consulting his superior; but that, in the meantime, he 
and his friends were welcome to rest and take refreshments in his tent, ae 
the night was stormy. Do Puzy having returned and made his report, they 
set out for the Austrian headquarters, and finally were conducted to Lux- 
etnbourg. 

Immediately on their arrival at this fortress, they were recognized by a 
crowd of refugees, who, looking on La Fayette as one of the first jjromoters 
of the revolution, treated them with the utmost insolence and contempt. 
Among the most virulent of these enraged emigrants, was Prince de 
Lambes, wdio rendered himself notorious by his abuse of La Fayette. 
As soon as the Governor of Luxembourg recognized La Fayette, he con- 



OF AJIERICAXS. m 

fined eaoli of the pnrty in separate rooms, at the inn wliere tliey lia^l 
stopped, and placed sentinels at tlieir doors. They protested in vain a'J'ainst 
these proceedings and wrote to the Duke of Saxe Tschen, for the purposo 
of gaining their release, and obtaining passports. His refusal was accompa- 
nied with a savage and useless threat of a public execution; and they re- 
mained in a state of close confinement, until the Governor of Luxembourg 
received orders from the Com-t of Vienna, to deliver them into the hands of 
the King of Prussia. They were transported in a common cart, like crimi- 
nals, under a strong escort of cavalry, during the night, from Luxembourg to 
Wesel, being confined in the common jails of the country, whenever it 
was found Tiecossary to stop. La Fayette's valet, only, was permitted to 
ride in the cart with his master. The Austrians sold their horses and arms, 
■and retained the money. 

At Wesel, tlie populace were permitted to insult them in the most savage 
manner. Here they were put in irons, placed in separate cells in the castle, 
deprived of all intercourse with each other, and told that the king intended 
to have thera h.anged, as wretches who deserved no favor. From Wesel, 
they were again transported in a cart to Magdeburg, where they were con- 
fined a year, in a dark subterranean dungeon, and during this time, all in- 
formation from their families was denied them. 

The King of Prussia now ordered La Fayette to be transported to Silesia ; 
General Maubourg solicited and obtained permission to accompany him. 
Here they were confined until about the period when a peace was settled be- 
tween Franco and Prussia, when they were delivered up to the Austrian 
government, and were conveyed to Olmutz. 

Here they were informed, as they were incarcerated in separate cells, that 
they would never again see anything but the four walls of their prison 
house, that they would never again hear a human voice ; their ver\- names 
were proscribed, and that in future they would be designated in dispatches 
to government by the numbers of their respective cells ; and lest they 
should destroy themselves, knives, forks, and everything that could be 
used for that purpose, would be interdicted. 

The three prisoners they abandoned to their miserable reflections, were 
immured in the dungeons of the ancient castle of the Jesuits, the walls of 
w-hich were twelve feet thick, and into which air is admitted through an 
opening two feet square, which is secured at each end by transverse massive 
iron bars. Immediately before these loopholes was a broad ditch, which 
was covered with water only when it rained, and at other times was a stag- 
nant marsh, from which a poisonous effluvium w.as constantly exhaling; 
and beyond this, were the outer walls of the castle, which prevented the 
slightest breeze from passing to the captives. On these outer walls were, in 
the daytime, four, and at night eight, sentinels, with loaded muskets, con- 
stantly watching the prisoners, and forbidden, on pain of one hundred 
la-shes, to speak a word with them, and with orders to shoot them dead, if 
they attempted to escape. The cellar of this castle had a large saloon, two 
hundred feet long and twelve wide, in which was a guard, consisting of au 
officer and twenty-five men, and a corporal and four soldiers, who alter- 
nately kept guard before the door of the prisoners. These soldierts, whilfl 
on duty, were forbidden either to speak, sing, or whistle. 



112 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

As this castle had served as a prison for four years previously to La Fay- 
ette's confinement, there had been constructed for each cell two doors, one 
of iron and the other of wood, near two feet thick. Both were covered 
with bolts, and bars, and double padlocks. Every time the inspector of the 
prison entered, the whole guard stood to their arms. Four men were posted 
on each side of the door; the sergeant, with his sword drawn, remained 
without, while the ofilcer of the guard entered the inner door, with his sword 
also drawn. The men crossed their bayonets, while the inspector examined 
everv corner of their cells with the greatest minuteness. When the jailer 
entered with their wretched pittance, twi(;e a day, it was scrupulously ex- 
amined, particularly the bread, which was crumbled to pieces by the officer 
of the guard, to discover if there was any note or communication contained 
in it. A wretched bed of rotten straw filled with vermin, together with a 
broken chair and an old table, formed the whole furniture of each apart- 
ment. 

The cells were eight or ten paces deep, and six or eight wide ; and when 
it rained, the water ran through the loopholes, off the walls, in such quan- 
tities, that the prisoners would sometimes find themselves in the morning 
wet to the skin. 

Such is the shocking account given by General Ducondray Ilolstein, and 
as he states, on the verbal authority of the prisoners themselves. 

The sufferings of La Fayette in this dreary abode, brought him to the 
borders of the grave. "Ilis frame was wasted by disease, of which, for a 
long period, not the slightest notice was taken ; and, on one occasion, he 
was reduced so low, that his hair fell from him entireh', by the excess of 
his sufferings. At the same time his estates in France were confiscated, his 
wife cast into prison, and Fai/eUeisin, as adherence to the constitution was 
called, was punished with death." 

But a man so distinguished in the world, and so endeared to the friends 
of civil liberty, though shut up in a dungeon, and deprived of communica- 
tion with human beings, was not forgotten. The American ministers to 
foreign courts, were instructed to intercede for his liberation. The envoy 
from the United States to the Court at St. James, exerted himself for the 
same purpose. The Count Lally Tolendal, who sat with La Fayette in the 
Nation.al Assemblj-, and who admired his principles and his virtues, also 
made unwearied exertions to effect his enlargement. Washington, when 
President of the United States, wrote to the Emperor of Austria a private 
letter, laying La Fayette's case before him, and requesting his permission 
that he might bo liberated, and come to America. The following is a part 
of that letter : 

"It will readily occur tn your majesty, that occasions may sometimes 
exist, on wdiioh official considerations would constrain the chief of a nation 
to be silent and pas.sivo in relation even to objects which affect his sensibil- 
ity, and claim his interposition as a man. Finding myself precisely in 
this situation at present, I have taken the liberty of writing this private 
letter to your majestj', being persuailed that ray motives will also be my 
apology for it. 

In common with the people of this cotmtrj', I retain a strong and cordial 
sense of the services rendered to thetn by the Marquis do La Fayette; and 



OF AMERICANS. 113 

my friendship for liirn lias been constant and sincere. It is natnral, there- 
fore, that 1 should sympathize with him and his family in their misfor- 
tunes ; and endeavor to mitigate the calamities they experience, among 
which his present confinement is not the least distressing. 

I forbear to enlarge on this delicate subject. Permit me only to submit 
to your majesty's consideration, whether the long imprisonment, and tho 
confiscation of his estate, and the indigence and dispersion of his family, 
and the painful anxieties incident to all these circumstances, do not form 
an assemblage of sufferings which recommend him to the mediation of hu- 
manity? Allow me. Sir, on this occasion, to be its organ ; and to entreat 
that he may be permitted to come to this country, on such conditions as 
your m.ajesty may think it expedient to prescribe. 

As it is a maxim with me not to ask what, under similar circumstances, I 
would not grant, your majesty will do me the justice to believe, that this 
request appears to me to correspond with those great principles of magna- 
nimity and wisdom, which form tho basis of sound policy and durable 
glory." 

To this humane and magnanimous request, his majesty the emperor 
either returned no answer at all, or such a one as made Washington under- 
stand that he declined setting the prisoner at liberty, or negotiating further 
on the subject. 

In 1793, Count Lally Tolondal, then in London, engaged Dr. Bollman, 
a Hanoverian of great sagacity, courage, and perseverance, to attempt the 
liberation of La Fayette. Dr. Bollman had before been employed by 
Madame de Stael, to effect the escape of Count Norbonne from France, who, 
in the reign of terror, had been proscribed. This he had performed, having, 
with uncommon address, conveyed the count to England. But Dr. Boll- 
man's first attempt was so unsuccessful, that after all his exertions, he did 
little more than to ascertain that the government of Prussia had delivered 
La Fayette over to that of Austria. But where he was or whether he was 
gtill alive, wore circumstances which Dr. Bollman found it impossible to 
ascertain, lie therefore returned again to London, and reported to the 
friends of the prisoner the little information he had obtained. 

But the friends of La Fayette were not discouraged. In June, 179-4, they 
again sent Dr. Bollman to Germany, to ascertain what had been his fate, 
and if he were still alive, to endeavor to procure his escape. With great 
difiTiculty he traced the French prisoners to the Prussian frontier, and then 
ascertained that an Austrian escort had received them, and taken the road 
to Olmutz. At Olmutz, Dr. Bollman ascertained that several state prisoners 
were kept in the citadel, with a degree of caution and mystery', which must 
have been not unlike that used by the half-fabulous pcrson.age in the Iron 
Mask. 

Tho following interesting account of Dr. Bollman's second visit to tho 
continent, and the attempt to deliver La Fayette, is extracted from the 
" Edinburgh Annual Register," for 1809. " Tho narrative," says the editor, 
"was drawn up by the writer from personal communications witli Jlr. 
linger." 

La Fayette had dr.agged on two miserable years in his .solitary ].rison, 
when a stranger and a foreigner isto]iped forward from pure motives of cons- 



m ADYENTUllES AXD ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

passion, and an anxious wish to be of service to a man who had signalize:! 
himself in the cause of liberty. BoUmaii was a Hanoverian by birth, 
young, active, intrepid, and intelligent. He repaired alone and on foot to 
blmutz, to gain such information as might enable him to judge of the best 
means to execute the purpose he had in view, to assist La Fayette in making 
his escape from the power of Austria, lie soon found that, without ar. 
able coadjutor the difficulties which presented themselves were insurmount- 
able. He was forced, therefore, for the present to abandon his design, until 
he should be so fortunate as to find a man equally zealous with himself, 
and with ability sufBoient to execute the hazardous plan he had formed. 
Accident tlirew in his way the person in the world best suited to the enter- 
prise by nature and education. At Vienna he entered into the society oi 
\-ounJ Americans, whom he thought most liliely, from their veneration for 
the character of La Fayette, to dare such an undertaking. He soon singled 
out one, to wliom, after proper precautions, he imparted his secret. Huget 
entered into and adopted his schemes with all the keenness of youth, and 
that enthusiastic enterprise peculiar to the inhabitants of the new world. 

Francis linger was the son of Colonel linger, of Chralestou, South Caro- 
lina, who lost his life in the service of his country, against the Britisli 
troops, on the walls of the town, when besieged by General Prevost. The 
year before his death, he had retired to a small island ofT the Charleston 
Bar. with his family, for the purpose of sea-bathing. There happened on« 
evening a violent storm ; the report of cannon was heard at a distance : con- 
cluding the firing came from British ships, then cruising in those seas, it was 
necessary to avoid giving suspicion that tlie island was inhabited. About 
midnight a knocking at the door of the cottage obliged Colonel Huger to 
open it. Two persons appeared, who, in a foreign accent, informed him 
that their ship had been driven on shore by the violence of the wind, and 
the crew had dispersed themselves over the island in search of assistance. 
They were hospitably received, and provided with such necessaries as they 
most stood in need of. When the strangers were made acquainted with the 
quality of their host, and his political principles, they made themselves 
and the object of their voy.ige known to him. The one was the Marquis 
dc La Fayette, then about eighteen, and the other an elderly gentleman, a 
Chevalier de St. Louis, who, like another Mentor, had followed the fortunes 
of the Young Telemachus. "They beheld," they said, "with indignation, 
the tyranny the inhabitants of North America labored rmder from the 
mother country ; and, animated with the true spirit of liberty, they were 
resolved to espouse the cause of the congress, and either partake with them 
the happiness of emancipation, or perish with them in the glorious effort." 
Colo?iel Huger quitted the island with his guests, and, repairing to head- 
quarters, introduced them to General Washington, who gave each of them 
a command in the continental army. Francis Huger was only four years 
old when this happened, but the adventure remained deeply impressed on 
his memory; and though he had never seen La Fayette since, yet he felt 
the greatest attachment to his person, and the highest admiration of his 
actions: with ardor, therefore, he participated in Bollraan's scheme for the 
release of his favorite hero. 

Thus agreed, they began their operations. It was necessary to conduct 



OF AMERICANS. 115 

tliemselves with caution, for the Austrian police was vigilant, and particu- 
larly jealous of strangers. Huger pretended ill health, and Bollnian gavo 
himself out for a physician, who on that account traveled with him. They 
bought three of the best horses they could find, and with one servant set 
forward on a tour. After traveling many weeks, staying some time at dif- 
ferent places, the better to conceal their purpose, and to confirm the idea 
that curiosity was the motive of their journey, they at length reached 
Olrautz. After viewing everything in the town, they walked into the castle 
to see the fortifications, made themselves acquainted with the jailer, and 
having desired permission to walk within the castle the next day, they re- 
turned to their lodging. They repeated their visits frequently, each time 
conversing familiarly with the jailer, and sometimes making him little 
presents. By degrees they gained his confidence, and one day, as if by ac- 
cident, asked him what prisoners he had under his care. He mentioned 
the name of La Fayette ; without discovering any surprise, they expressed 
a curiosity to know how he passed his time, aud what indulgencies he enjoyed ; 
they were informed that he was strictly confined, but was permitted to take 
exercise without the walls with proper attendants, and, besides, was allowed 
the use of books and pen, ink, and paper. They s;iiil,"that as they had 
some new publicatious with them, it might add to his amusement if they 
were to lend them to him, and desired to know if they might make the 
ofl'er. The jailer said he thought there could be no objection, provided the 
books were delivered open to him (the jailer), so that he might see there 
was nothing improper in their contents. With this caution they complied, 
and the same evening sent a book and a note to the jailer, addressed to La 
Favette, written in French ; who, though he did not understand that lan- 
"ua'^e (as it afterward appeared), yet did not suspect any treachery where 
everything was conducted so openly. The note contained apologies for the 
liberty they had taken ; but as they wished in any way to contribute to his 
happiness, they hoped he would attentively read the book they had sent, 
and if any passages in it particularly engaged his notice, they begged he 
would let them know his opinion. He received the note, and finding it 
was not expressed in the visual mode of complimentary letters, conceived 
that more was meant than met the eye. He therefore carefully perused the 
book, and found in certain places words written with a pencil, which, being 
put together acquainted him with the names, qualities, and designs of the 
writers, and requiring his sentiments before they should proceed any fur- 
ther. He returned the book, and with it an open note, thanking them, and 
adding, that be highly approved of and was much charmed with its con- 
tents. 

Having thus begun a correspondence, seldom a day passed but open notes 
[i.assed between them, some of which the jailer showed to persons wlw) 
could read them; but, as nothing appeared that could create any suspicion, 
the correspondence was permitted. 

Their plan being at length arranged, the particulars were written with 
lemon juice, and on the other side of the jiaper a letter of inquiry after La 
Fayette's health, concluding with these words : Quand vous aurez hi cc 
billet, niettez le an feu (instead of i/«7i.9 le feu). By holding the paper to 
the fire the letters appeared, and he wa-s made acquainted with everv ar- 
8 



116 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

rangement they had made. The day following was fixed upon to put the 
plan into execution. The city of Olmutz is situated about thirty miU'S 
from the frontiers of Silesia, in the midst of a plain, which, taking the 
town as its center, extends three miles each way. The plain is bounded by 
rising ground, covered with bushes and broken rooks ; so that a man stand- 
ing on the walls might distinctly see everything that passed on the plain. 
Sentinels were placed for the purpose of giving an alarm when any prisoner 
was attempting to escape, and all people were ordered to assist in retaking 
him; great rewards were likewise due to the person w^ho arrested a pris- 
oner. It seemed therefore scarcely possible to succeed in such an attempt. 
Aware of these difSculties, Bollman and linger were not intimidated, but 
took their measures with the greater caution. 

Under pretense that his health required air and exercise. La Fayette had 
obtained permission to ride out upon the plain every day in an open cabrio- 
let, accompanied by an officer, and attended b}' an armed soldier, who 
mounted behind by way of guard. During these excursions he bad gained 
the confidence of the officer so far, that when the carriage was at a distanca 
from the walls they used to quit it, and walk together. 

The plan determined upon was this : Bollman and Hugcr were to ride 
out of town on horseback, the latter leading a third horse ; as neither of 
them knew La Fayette, a signal was agreed upon at their meeting. La 
Fayette was to endeavor to gain as great a distance as possible from the 
town, and, as usual, to quit the carriage with the officer, and draw him im- 
perceptibly as far from it as he could, without exciting bia suspicions. The 
two friends were then to approach, and, if necessary, to overpower the officer, 
mount La Fayette upon the horse Iluger led, and ride away to Eeautropp, 
fifteen miles distant, where a chaise and horses awaited to convey them to 
Trappaw, the nearest town within the Prussian dominions, about thirty 
miles from Olmutz, where they would be safe from pursuit. In the morn- 
ing Huger sent his trusty servant to endeavor to learn the precise time that 
La Payette left the castle. After a tedious delay, he retiu'ned, and told 
them that the carriage had just passed the gates. 

With agitated hearts they set out ; having gained the plain, they could 
perceive no carriage ; they rode slowly on, till they had nearly reached the 
woody country, but still no carriage appeared. Alarmed lest some unfoi-e 
seen accident should have led to a discovery, they hesitated ; but, recollect 
ing that their motions might be distinctly seen from the walls, they retraced 
their steps, and had arrived at a short distance from the town, when they 
beheld the long wished for cabriolet pass through the gates, with two per- 
sons in it, one in the Austrian uniform, and a musqueteer mounted behind. 
On passing, they gave the preconcerted signal, which was returned, and the 
carriage moved on. They continued their ride toward the town, then turned, 
and slowly followed the carriage. They loitered, in order to give La Fay- 
ette time to execute, his part of the agreement. They observed the two 
gentlemen descend from the carriage, and walk from it arm-in-arm. They 
approached gradually, and perceiving that La Fayette and the officer ap- 
peared to be engaged in earnest conversation about the officer's sword, 
which La Fayette had at the time in his hand, they thought this the favor- 
able moment, and put spurs to their horses. The noise of their approach 



OF AMERICAXS. ■ 117 

alarmed the officer, wlio, turning round, nnd seeing two horsemen coming 
up full gallop, he hastened to join the cabriolet, pulling La Fayette with 
him ; finding resistance, he endeavored to get possession of his sword, and 
a struggle ensued. linger arrived at this, moment ; " You are free," said lie 
"seize this horse, and fortune bo our guide." 

He had scarce spoken, when the gleam of the sun upon the blade of the 
sword startled the horse. He broke his bridle, and fled precipitatch' over 
the plain. Boll man rode after to endeavor to take him. Meantime Huger, 
with a gallantry and generosity' seldom equaled, but never excelled, in- 
sisted on La Fayette's mounting his horse, and making all speed to the place 
of rendezvous : "Lose no time, the alarm is given, the peasants are assem- 
bling, save yourself" La Fayette mounted his horse, left linger on foot, 
and was soon out of sight. BoUman had in vain pursued the frightened 
horse, and perceiving he had taken the road to the town, gave up the chase, 
and returned to linger, who got up behind him, and they galloped away 
together. They had not gone far when the horse, unequal to such a bur- 
den, stumbled and fell, and Bollman was so bruised with the fall, that with 
difficulty he could rise from the ground. The gallant linger assisted his 
friend upon the horse, and again forgetting all selfish considerations, desired 
him to follow and assist La Fayette, and leave him to make his escape on 
foot, which he said he could easily do, as he was a good runner, and the 
v.'oody country was close at hand. Bollman with reluctance consented. 

Upon the ajiproach of the horsemen, the soldier, who had remained with 
the cabriolet, instead of coming to the assistance of the officer, ran back to 
the town ; but long before _ho arrived the alarm was given ; for the w^hole 
of the transaction had been observed from the walls — the cannon fired, and 
the country was raised. Bollman easily evaded his pursuers, by telling 
them he was himself in pursuit. Huger was not so fortunate ; he had been 
marked by a party, who never lost sight of him ; yet his hunters being on 
foot like himself, ho might have reached his covert, had they not been 
joined by others who were fresh in the chase; they gained ground upon 
him, and at the moment he had reached a place where he hoped he might 
rest awhile, quite exhausted with fatigue .and breathless, he sunk to the 
earth, and a peasant came up ; he offered him his purse to assist his escape; 
the Austrian snatched the money with one hand, and seized him with the 
other, calling to his companions to come to his help. Resistance was vain, 
and the intrepid Huger was conveyed back to Olmutz in triumph, inwardly- 
consoling himself with the glorious idea, that he had been the cause of res- 
cuing from tyr.anny .and misery a man he esteemed one of the first charac- 
ters upon cirth. He was shut up in a dungeon of the castle as a state 
prisoner. 

Meanwhile La Fayette took the road he was directed, and .arrived without 
any obstacle at a i;mall town about ten miles from Olmutz ; here the road 
divided ; th.at leading to Trappaw lay to the right — unfortunately he took 
the loft. Ho had scarce left the town, when perceiving the road turning too 
much to the left, he suspected he had mistaken his way, and inquired of a 
person he met the way to Beautropp. The man, eyeing him with a look 
of curiosity, at length told him he had missed his way, but directed him 
to take another, which ho said woti'd soon lead him right. This man, 



118 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

from La. Fayette's appearance, his horse in a foam, his foreign accent, and 
the inquiries he made, suspected him to be a prisoner maldng his escape; 
he therefore directed him a road, which by a circuit led him baclv to the 
town, ran himself to the magistrate, and told him his suspicions ; so that 
when La Fayette thought himself upon the point of regaining the road 
which would soon secure his retreat, he found himself surrounded by a 
guard of armed men, who, regardless of his protestations, conveyed him to 
the magistrate. He was however so collected, that he gave the most 
plausible answers to the interrogations that were put to him ; he said that he 
was an officer of excise belonging to Trappaw, and that having friends at 
Olrautz, he had been there upon a visit ; had been detained there by indis- 
position longer than he intended, and, as his time of leave of absence was 
expired, he was hastening back, and begged he might not be detained, for if 
he did not reach Trappaw that day, he was afraid his absence might be no- 
ticed, and he should lose his office. The magistrate was so much prepos- 
sessed in his favor by this account, and by the readiness of his answers t* 
every question, that he expressed himself perfectly satisfied, and was going 
to dismiss him, when the door of an inner room opened, and a young man 
entered with papers for the magistrate to sign. While this was doing the 
young man fixed his eyes upon La Fayette, and immediately whispered to 
the magistrate; "Who do you say he is?" "The General La Fayette." 
"How do you know him ?" "I was present when the general was dcliv- 
sred up by the Prussians to the Austrians ; this is the man, I cannot be mic- 
taken." 

La Fayette entreated to be heard. The magistrate told him it was useless 
for him to speak ; he must consent immediately to be conveyed to Olmutz, 
Hud his identity would then bo ascertained. Dismayed and confounded, he 
submitted to his hard fate, was carried back to Olmutz, and the same day, 
which rose to him with the fairest prospects of ha]ipiness and libert}-, beheld 
him, at the close of it, plunged in still deeper misery and imprisonment. 
Bollman, having eluded the search of his pursuers, arrived at the place 
where the chaise had been ordevd to wait their coming. Finding it still 
there, and yet no appearance of La Fayette, he foreboded mischief. With 
as much patience as he could command, he remained till evening, not yet 
giving up all hope of a fortunate issue to their adventure. He dismissed 
the chaise, however, and made a circuitous journey, in hopes his friends 
might have escaped by a different route ; he could gain no information 
whatever, till, on the third day, a rumor of La Fayette having been retaken 
in attempting his escape, dissipated his hopes ; and, anxious to loam the 
truth, he took the road to Olmutz. He soon was told the melancholy tale, 
with the addition, that his friend Huger had shared a similar fate. In des- 
pair at having been the primary cause of his misfortune, and determining to 
share it with him, he voluntarily surrendered himself, and was committed a 
prisoner to the castle. 

Thus, by a train of most untow.ard accidents, which no prudence could 
foresee or guard against, failed a plan so long meditated, and so skillfully 
projected. The reader's attention must now be confined (Chiefly to Huger. 
The day after his entrance into the castle, Huger received notice from the 
jailer to prepare for an examination before the chief magistrate of the city. 



OF AMEinCANS. 119 

As he was not consoious of h.iving; committed any very heinous crime. 
he was under no apprehensions for his life ; but expected that, after he had 
told his story, and declared the motive of liis actions, his judge might sub- 
ject him to some slight punishment, perhaps a short imprisonment ; what 
then u-as his amazement, when he heard himself accused of having entered 
into a conspiracy against the Austrian government. 

The examination was carried on by means of an interpreter, a young 
man of a benign aspect, who seemed to compassionate his situation, and 
who, when he gave such answers as he thought might tend to hurt his 
cause, made him repeat his answers, softening their import, assuring him he 
did not exactly express himself in proper terms, and desiring him to recol- 
lect whether he did not mean to answer in such and such a manner. Huger 
saw his good intentions, and determined to relj- on his judgment, especially 
after he had heard him say in a low voice, "I am your friend." After this, 
and many subsequent examinations, the magistrates informed him he musf 
not expect pardon, but advised him to 'prcjiare for the worst. Tiiis exhor- 
tation, so often repeated, began to have some effect upon him, and consider- 
ing he was in the pjower of an absolute monarch, whose will was superior 
to law, ho could not shake off some melancholy presages. His place ol 
confinement was a loathsome dungeon, without light ; he was fed with the 
coarsest food — chained to the floor during the night — Iiis own clothes taken 
from him, and others sent him that had already been worn by many an un- 
fortunate prisoner. Thus he dragged on the first three mouths of his con- 
finement. After that time, he was removed to a better room, into which 
glimmered a borrowed light; better clothes, and more wholesome food 
were given him, and his circumstances, in every respect, were improved. 
But still he was uncertain as to his fate, and the jailer was the only human 
being that visited him. One day he was surprised with the appearance of 

his young friend the interpreter, Mr. W . Nothing could exceed his joy 

at once more beholding a kindly human face. lie informed Huger, that the 
court of Austria had believed that all the garrison of Olmutz had been en- 
gaged in the conspiracy ; that many people had been arrested on suspicion ; 
for it could not be believed, that two such young men as he and Bollman 
could have formed and executed so daring a plan, without the aid of others j 
but as no proofs had hitherto appeared, it was determined to bring thera 
shortly to trial, and for that purpiose, lawyers were to bo sent from Vienna, 
to assist the magistrates of tlie city. Huger now, for the first time, learned 
the complete failure of their scheme, and that Bollman was under the same 
roof with him. However sad tlie reflection was, that his friend's sufferings 
equaled his own, yet he could not express the joy he felt at being so near 
him. Soon after, he discovered that he inhabited the room above him. 
Thenceforward his treatment was much less rigorous ; even the jailer, who 
till lately had observed a profound silence, relaxed his caution, and came 
frequently to visit him ; and though a man of few words, yet us his jircs- 
enco broke the dreary solitude, he felt happy whenever he made his 
appearance. Mijny wore the experiments he tried, to hold communication 
with Bollman, and at lei:gth he succeeded. 

Ho discovered that the window which threw a borrowed light into hi» 
cell, served likewise to throw light into that of Bollman. He picked a 



120 ADVENTURES AKD ACHIEVEMENTS 

piece of lime from the wall, and «i(h it scratchijJ a few worJs upon a 
black silk handkerchief he wore alxnifc his neck ; then fixing it upon a 
stick, he climbed up the side of the room, and raised the stick as near the 
common window as he could, till it had attracted the attention of Bnllman, 
■who, after many efforts, made himself master of it, and returned an answer 
by the same method. Delighted with having overcome this difficulty, they 

never suffered a day to pass without some communication. To AV , 

they were indebted for the means of rendering their situation still more 
comfortable, by engaging the jailer's wife in their interest ; a few present.^, 
and now and then a small piece of money, induced her secretly' to bring 
them books, food, wine, and warmer clothes ; and at length to procure a 
meeting between the two friend.s, at first short, but by degrees become more 
hardy, they were permitted [■'' pass some part of every day together. The 
following is an extract of a letter, written by Huger to a near friend and 
relation, which, as it describes his situation and feelings in a forcible man- 
ner, ought not to be omitted. 

" I am equally ignorant how this affair may have been represented, or 
what may be thought, in these times, of an attempt to deliver M. de la 
Fayette. The motives which, however, induced me to engage in it, cannot 
be judged by those who examine all similar enterprises according to their 
success or failure. Believe me, it was neither unreasonably undertaken, nor 
rashly executed, but failed from accidents which prudence could not foresee. 
To the mortification of a failure, were added the miseries of a prison, 
which, in Austria, exceed anything known in England. In a small room, 
just long enough for my bed of straw, with eight-pence a day for my sup- 
port ; at night chained to the ground, and without books or light, I passed 
the first three months of my captivity. After this time my situation be- 
came gradually better, but I was not allowed to write to my friends to be 
delivered from my chains, or permitted the smallest intercourse with the 
worlil, till a fortnight before my release. 

" In such a situation, the consciousness alone of having done nothing dis-. 
honest or dishonorable, could afford that internal satisfaction, and inspire 
that stern patience, necessary to support calmly so sudden and severe a re- 
verse of fortune ; but it has convinced me, that a mind at peace with itself, 
can in no situation be unhappy. Daily habit also soon removed the un- 
pleasant sensations excited by disagreeable and unaccustomed objects, and 
the mind, which no power can restrain, will always derive consolation from 
hope, and rarely want some object to be actively employed upon. My 
friend and companion, Mr. Bollraan, was in the same house, and our efforts 
to establish some communicalion, or to procure a momentarir interview-, af- 
forded exercise for invention ; and, in proportion to the difficulty of effecting 
our wishes, the smallest success rewarded days of projects and expectation. 
I once, also, found means to disengage myself from my chains, and felt an 
emotion beyond the power of words to describe. My long captivity has 
not then been wholly miserable, nor withoiit some pleasure." 

At length, at the end of seven months, they were informed that the 
jrown lawyers had arrived. The government by this time was satisfied, 
that the attempt to liberate La Fayette was planned independently by two 
adventurers, and that it was not a plot laid by the secret agents of France, 



OF AMERICANS. 121 

in which the garrison at Olmutz at leiist was concerned, if it were not moro 
widely extended ; and upon their trial, the sole fact of having attempted to 
reKcue a state prisoner was alleged against them. 

This fact being proved, they were remanded to theic prison, to await the 
sentence which was to be pronounced against them by the supremo magi^. 
trato. They were now, however, permitted every indulgence but liberty. 

It was some days before they heard from W , and when he came, they 

wore .astonished and confounded to hear from him, that their punishment 
was intended to be imprisonment for life. He however consoled them by 
hinting, that if they could by any means procure money, this sentence 
might be changed to one much less severe, as it remained with the magis- 
trate to pass what sentence he thought pro[ier, or even to release them en- 
tivelv. Bollman had no fortune, and as linger had no credit in Austria, it 
would be a long time before he could receive a remittance from London. 
W , tlieir guardian angel, promised to do all he could for them. 

In the vicinity of Olmutz resided a Russian nobleman, of most polished 

manners, joined to the greatest benevolence of heart. With him W 

enjoyed a perfect intimacy and friendship ; they wore congenial souls. 

\V had made hira acquainted with the whole of their story ; through 

him he had been able to administer so frequently to their comfort ; and he 
now nobly offered to advance them whatever money they might want, to ac- 
complish their release, and to defray their expenses to Hamburg. Having 
thus removed the greatest difiSculty, his next care was to sound the senti- 
ments of the magistrate. This ho could easily effect, as, in the capacity of 
interpreter, he had constant communication with him. He soon discerned 
that the magistrate was not averse to his speaking in their favor: and when 
he artfully insinuated that a large reward would certainly attend his de- 
claring himself inclined to pardon, he fouiul himself listened to witli more 
attention. Having gained this point, ho very soon came to an eclaircisse- 

ment. The magistrate made an exorbitant demand ; W said it w:i3 

useless for him to go to the prisoners with such terms, and as he knew ex- 
actly the state of their finances, he could at once mention what they had to 
give, and therefore the utmost he could expect. This sum was fifty pieces. 

He refused to comply for less than a hundred. In answer to this, W 

desired him to consider, that if he delayed his determination, he might lose 
his prize altogether, for that groat interest was making at Vienna for the re- 
lease of the prisoners, which he had no doubt would succeed, as among 
other,<!, the English and American ambassadors had exerted themselves in 
their favor. This upright magistrate at last yielded to the impulse of ava- 
rice, ard agreed that, if th? pri'ionern would send h'm the money beforo 
they left the prison, they should be released the next day. To this he an- 
swered that they were so distrustful of all about thorn, that he was certain 
they would rather await the result of the petition at Vienna, than part with 
their little stock of money at an uncertainty, but added, that he himself 
would become their security, and be answerable to him for the money in 

case they did not pay it. To this he agreed, and W was authorizi'd to 

negotiate wita the prisoners. All matters being soon settled, the term of 
their imprisonment was first fixed at fourteen years, then shortened to seven, 
soon after to one, thou to a month, and lastly to a week ; at the expiration 



122 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMEXTb 

of which they were released from prison. They immediately repaired to 
the house of the magistrate, to return him thanlcs for the many indulgencics 
he had allowed them, and upon shaking hands with him, the stipulated 
sum was put into his hands. It is not to be supposed they made a long 
stay at Olrautz ; no longer than was necessary to pour out their grateful 
aclinowledgraents to the Paissian nobleman, .and above all, to the r.oble- 

minded, generous W , to whose Idndness they owed all the comforts 

they had experienced in prison, and to whoso friendly and humane exer- 
tions they were ultimately indebted for their liberation. 

" La Payette, in the meantime, was thrown back into his obscure and ig- 
nominious sufferings, with hardly a hope that they could be terminated 
e.'icept with his life. During the winter of 1794-5, he was reduced to 
almost the last extremity by a violent fever; and yet was deprived of 
proper attendance, of air, of suitable food, and of decent clothes. To in- 
crease his misery, he was made to believe that he was reserved for public 
execution, and that his chivalrous deliverers had already perished on a scaf- 
fold ; while, at the same time, he was not permitted to know whether his 
family were still alive, or bad fallen under the revolutionary ax, of which, 
during the time he was out of his dungeon, he had lieard such appalling ac- 
counts. 

Madame La Fayette, however was nearer to him than he could imagine 
to have been possible. She (with her two daughters) had been released 
from prison, where she too had nearly perished ; and having gained strength 
sufTicient for the undertaking, and sent her eldest son for safety to the caro 
of General Washington, slie set out accompanied by her two young daugh- 
ters, all in disguise, with American passports. They were landed at Altoua, 
and proceeding immediately to Vienna, obtained an audience with the em- 
peror, who refused to liberate La Fayette, but, as it now seems probable, 
against the intentions of his ministers, gave them permission to join him in 
his prison. They went instantly to Olmutz ; but before they could enter, 
they were deprived of whatever tliey had brought with them, to alleviate 
the miseries of a dungeon, and required, if they should pass its threshold, 
never again to leave it. 

Madame La Fayette's health soon sunk under the complicated sufferings 
and privations of her loathsome imprisonment, and she wrote to Vienna for 
]iermission to pass a week in tlie capital, to breathe purer air, and obtain 
medical assistance. Two months elapsed before any answer was returned ; 
and then she was told that no objection would be made to her leaving her 
Imsbaiiil, but that if she sliould do so, she must never return to him. She 
immediately and formally .signed her consent and determination to share 
his captivity in .all its details," 

Notwithstanding the efforts which had been made for their release, La 
Fayette and his fellow jirisoners remained immured in their dark and 
loatlusome dungeons, until August, 1797, when Bonaparte settled the treaty 
of Cainpo Formio witli the Austrian government. La Fayette had been 
confined five years, and Madame La Fayette and her daughters shared hia 
imprisonment for twenty-two months. 



THE TRIUMPHS 



OF SOME OF THE MOST 



EMINENT AMERICAN INYENTOES 

WHITNEY— FDLTON— MOUSE— STEEIiS— GOODYEAR— COLT— 
M'CORMICK— SIKGEK, Etc. 



Tnis world probably is not jet out of its babyhood. The united ages of 
one hundred individuals who have reached the allotted period of three 
score years and ten, sum up an amount of time greater than that which has 
elapsed since our common parents first walked in the groves of Paradise. 

Geologists demonstrate, and theologians assent to their evidence, that 
this round globe, whereon we all unexpectedly find ourselves, was probably 
millions of years in the process of forming for our habitation. Is it not fair, 
then, to infer that it will be occupied by our race for at least as long a 
period as it was preparing for them ? And this, it would seem, could be 
well afforded ; for let us assign its duration to aTiy vast number of ages, 
nothing would be taken from eternity — nothing from the measureless glory 
and beneficence of lIlM, with whom "one day is as a thousand years, and a 
thousand years as one day." 

Beside, to our apprehension the world thus far would appear a failure. 
Very little has been accomplished by those for whom it was made. They 
have not even now completely exj)lorod its surface, and the great mass are 
yet in a savage state, which, although the natural condition, can be so only 
in the beginning — the nature of man being to progress, to reach forward and 
improve his condition, through the aid of Art, Science, and Religion. Art, 
mechanical and aisthetical, which ministers to labor, coml'urt, and the sense 
of the beautiful — Science, the sister and partner of Art, that opens the riches 
and workings of nature ; and Religion, which cements everything, by lifting 
up the soul in harmony with the righteous law of the Great Author. 

That this world is not yet out of swaddling clothes, seems further evi- 
dent from the fact, that the vital truth, that "all men are born free and 
equal," ha-s just been discovered — the great American idea, that all have the 
name natural right to enjoy the benefits of everything which a common 
Father has provided — that no distinction in these respects exists between 
men, and no especial consideration is due to any one, other than that which 
arises from a mental or a moral superiority. 

It is the effect of this idea of freedom and equality, united to the conse- 
quent more general diffusion of knowledge, that does so fill the breast of 
the American with hope and cheerfulness, for with it bursts upon his view 

(12.3) 



124 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

such a boundless fielJ for enterprise, as never before gladdened the human 
heart. The great mass of mind that in other ages, and in other countries, 
was kept compressed has here burst its bonds, and is illustrating its power. 
The o-eiieral freedom results in such an intensity of application in the in- 
dividual, and such an amount in the aggregate, that the progress made 
seems miraculous ; a few years giving results, that once centuries did not 
equal. In science, discovery after discovery, and in the mechanic arts, in- 
vention after invention crowd so thick upon us, that astonishment at the 
profusion of the riches of nature open to the genius of our race, is only 
equaled by our wonder in view of the eventual result of all these, present 
and to be, upon our condition. 

Some, in noting these great achievements of our time, think that the 
trreatest must have been attained, as though there could be a limit to the 
wonders that, in the profusion of an Almighty Creator, will always remain 
for the discovery and the application of the mind of man. Were such a 
final point reached, the human intellect would at once sink and become 
dwarfed in the absence of the proper aliment for its highest powers. No ! 
neither in Time nor Eternity, can there be any want of the material for the 
development of the intellect and the affections, upward and onward forever 
and ever. 

We here give sketches of some of our countrymen, whose inventions have 
had so much to do in changing the whole current of our national industry. 
These, great as they are, may have been equaled, and perhaps iu some in- 
Btanoes surpassed in mental force by others not generallj' known, because of 
their limited utility. Furthermore the truth doubtless is, that in a majority 
of instances the wisest exertions of intellect have failed in this life by the 
intervention of obstacles, as impossible to be foreseen as the passage of the 
meteoric stone, which falling from the skies on to the track at a critical 
moment, caused the whole train, with its precious freight of humanity, to go 
dashing over the precipice. But failure in the plans of this life are, jierhaiJS, 
but temporary. Hope buoys us up with the thought that the strength 
gained by exertion here, may be continued to the spirit-world, where the 
ineffable glory of the Creator will be illustrated by the continuous progress 
of those who were originally made but "a little lower than the angels." 

ELI WHITKET, THE INVENTOR OF THE COTTON-GIN. 

Eli Whitney, the son of a substantial New England farmer, was born in 
Weslborough, Massachusetts, in 1765. He early showed a genius for me- 
chanics, and employed his leisure in such pursuits. When a mere boy, ia 
the absence oi his parents at ohuich, prompted by cu.'iositj', he took his 
father's watch to pieces to examine its mechanism. He put it together so 
skillfully that the machine ran as well as before. His father never dis- 
covered his audacity, until he himself, years after, revealed it to him. 

At the close of the revolution, a fashion prevailed among the ladies of 
fastening on their bonnets with long pins. These he contrived to make 
•with so much skill and dexterity, that he nearly monopolized the business. 
Partly by the avails of liis mechanical industrj^ and partly by teaching 
school, he provided the means to prepare himself for college, and in 1789 
became a student of Yale. His propensity for mechanical operations thera 



OF AMERICANS. 125 

was occ.ision.illj- shown. The skill with which ho used the tools he bor- 
rowed of a carpenter, led to the exclamation, on the part of the man, " There 
was one good mechanic spoiled when you came to college ! " 

In 1792, having graduated, Whitney went to Georgia, with a view of 
becoming a private teacher ; but being disappointed in an engagement, 
temporarih" accepted the hospitalities of Gen. Greene, who resided near 
Savannah. Ho there invented a tambour frame for Mrs. Greene, to be used 
in embroidery, the ingenuit}' of which delighted the whole household. 
Not long after the family were visited by a party of gentlemen, consisting 
principally of officers who had served under the general, in the revolu- 
tionary army. The conversation turning upon the state of agriculture, it 
was regretted that there was no means of cleaning the seed from the green 
seed cotton, which might otherwise be profitably raised on lands unsuitable 
for rice. But, until ingenuity could devise some machine which would 
greatly facilitate the process of cleaning, it was vain to think of raising 
cotton for market. Separating one pound of the clean staple from the seed 
was a day's work for a woman. AVhile the company were engaged in this 
conversation, "Gentlemen," said Mrs. Greene, "apply to my young friend, 
Mr. Whitney, he can make anything," at the same time showing them the 
tambour frame and several other articles which he had made. Sha intro- 
duced the gentlemen to Whitney himself, extolling his genius, and com* 
mending him to their notice and friendship. He modestly disclaimed all 
pretensions to mechanical genius, and on their naming the object, replied 
that ho had never seen cotton seed in his life. Mrs. Greene said to one of 
the gentlemen :_" I have accomplished my aim, Mr. Whitney is a very 
deserving young man, and to bring him into notice was my object. The 
interest which our friends now feel for him, will, I hope, lead to his getting 
some employment to enable him to prosecute the study of the law." 

Encouraged by Mr. Miller, a teacher in the family, and a brother grad- 
uate of Yale, he shut himself up in his room, and set himself at work in- 
venting and constructing that machine on which his future fame depended. 
He labored under great disadvantages, being obliged to manufacture his 
tools, and draw his own wire. In the course of a few months, the machine 
was so far perfected as to leave no doubt of its success. Mr. Miller, who 
had funds at his command, united with Mr. Whitney, as a partner in the 
enterprise of making and vending the machine. An invention so important 
to the agricultural interests, and, as it has jnoved, to every department of 
human industry, could not long remain a secret. The knowledge of it soon 
spread through the State, and so great was the excitement on the .^subject, 
that multitudes of persons canie from all quarters of the State to yee the 
machine ; but it was not deemed safe to gratify their curiosity until the 
patent-right should be secured. But so determined were some of the 
populace to po.s.sess this treasure, that neither law nor justice could restrain 
them ; they broke open the building by night, and carried off the machine. 
In this way the public became possessed of the invention ; and before Mr. 
Whitney could complete his model and secure his patent, a number of 
machines were in successful operation, constructed with some slight devia^ 
tion from the original, with the hope of evading the penally for violating 
the patent-right. 



126 ADVEXTDRES A^D ACHIEVEMENTS 

As soon as the co-partnership of Miller and Whitney was formed, Mr 
Whitney repaired to Connecticut, where, as far as possible, he was to perfect 
the machine, obtain a patent, and manufacture and ship for Georgia, such a 
number of machines as would supply the demand. 

At tlie close of this year, 1793, Mr. Whitney was to return to Georgia 
with his cofton-gins, where his partner had made arrangements for com- 
mencing business immediately after his arrival. The importunity of Mr. 
Miller's letters, written during the preceding period, urging him to come on, 
evinces how eager the Georgia planters were to enter the new field of en- 
terprise which the genius of Whitney had laid open to them. Nor did 
they at first in general contemplate availing themselves of the invention 
unlawfully. But the minds of the more honorable class of planters were 
afterward deluded by various artifices, set on foot by designing men, with 
the view of robbing Mr. Whitney of his just rights. 

One of the greatest difficulties experienced by men of enterprise, at this 
period, was the extreme scarcit}- of money, which embarrassed them to 
such a degree, as to render it almost impossible to construct machines fast 
enough. In April he returned to Georgia. Large crops of cotton were 
planted, the profits of which were to depend, of course, entirely on the suc- 
cess and employment of the gin. 

The most formidable rival to Whitney's machine, was the saio-gin. It 
was Whitney's gin, excepting that the teeth were cut in circular rims of 
iron, and it was principally in reference to this that the law-suits were after- 
ward held. 

In this year, 1795, misfortunes began to multiply upon them. Mr 
Whitney's shop at New Haven was burnt, and all his machines and papers 
destroyed, so that the company began to be much straitened for want of 
funds. Miller wrote Whitney to endeavor to raise a loan of money in New 
Haven, and concluded his letter with some very sensible remarks. "In 
doing this," says he, " use great care to avoid giving an idea that we are in 
a desperate situation, to induce us to borrow money. To people who are 
deficient in understanding, this precaution will be extremely necessary : men 
of sense can easily distinguish between the prospect of large gains, and the 
approaches to bankruptcy." " Such is the disposition of man," he observes 
on another occasion, "that while we keep afloat, there will not be wanting 
those who will appear willing to assist us ; but let us once be given over, 
and they will immediately desert us." 

The cotton from Whitney's gins was sought in preference to all others ; 
but the value of the patent was almost annihilated by the extent of the en- 
croachments. The first patent suit, which was tried at Augusta, Ga., in 
the spring of 1797, went against them. The Judge gave a charge to the 
Jury directly in their favor. The imperfections of the patent law of that 
time, and the folly of trying an intricate case of this kind by a com- 
mon jury, were thus made manifest. Thus, after four years of incessant 
labor, their hopes of success were blasted. Surreptitious gins were erected 
in all parts of the State, and few would buy a patent which they could use 
with impunity without purchasing. 

In 1801 and 1802, however, the patentees succeeded in selling their 
patant-right on advantageous terms to the States of South Carolina, North 



OF AMERICANS. 127 

Carolina, and Tennessee, and the prospects were becoming favorable, when 
the legislature of South Carolina suddenly annulled their contract, and sued 
for the money which had been paid. 

In a letter written to Mr. Miller at this time, Mr. Whitney remarks : 
"I am, for my own part, more vexed than alarmed by their extraordinary 
proceedings. I think it behooves us to be very cautious and circumspect iu 
our measures, and even iu our remarks with regard to it. Be cautious what 
you say or publish till we meet our enemies in a court of justice, when, if 
they have an}' sensibility left, we will make them very much ashamed of 
their childish conduct." 

But, that Mr. Whitney felt very keenly in regard to the severities after- 
ward practiced toward him, is evident from the tenor of the remonstrance 
which he presented to the legislature. " The subscriber," says he, " respect- 
full}' solicits permission to represent to the legislature of South Carolina, 
that he conceives himself to have been treated with unreasonable severity 
in the measures recently taken against him, by, and under their immediate 
direction. He holds that, to be seized and dragged to prison without being 
allowed to be heard in answer to the charge alleged against him, and, in- 
deed, without the exhibition of any specific charge, is a direct violation of 
the common right of every citizen of a free government ; that the power, in 
this case, is all ou one side ; that whatever may be the issue of the process 
now instituted against him, he must, in any case, be subjected to great ex- 
pense and extreme hardships ; and that he considers the tribunal before 
which he is holden to appear, to be wholly incompetent to decide, defini- 
tively, existing disputes between the State and Miller and Whitney. 

" The subscriber avers, that he has manifested no other than a disposition 
to fulfill all the stipulations entered into with the State of South Carolina, 
with punctuality and good faith ; and begs leave to observe, farther, that to 
have industriously, laboriously, and exclusively devoted many years of the 
prime of his life to the invention and the improvement of a m.ichine, from 
which the citizens of South Carolina have already realized immense profits — 
which is worth to them millions, and from which their posterity, to the 
latest generations, must continue to derive the most important benefits, and 
in return to be treated as a felon, a swindler, and a villain, has stung him to 
the very soul. And when he considers that this cruel persecution is in- 
flicted by the very persons who are enjoying these great benefits, and ex- 
pressly for the purpose of preventing his ever deriving the least advantage 
from his own labors, the acutcncss of his feelings is altogether inex- 
pressible." 

Doubts, it seems, had arisen iu the public mind as to the validity of the 
patent, and the patentees were supposed to have failed in the fulfillment of 
a part of the contract. Great exertions had been made in Georgia, where 
it will be remembered, hostilities were first declared against him, to show 
that his title to the invention was unsound, and that somehodij in Switzer- 
land h.id conceived of it before him, and that the improved form of the 
machine, with saws instead of wire teeth, did not come within tho patent, 
having been introduced by one, Ilodgin Holmes. 

The popular voice, stimulated by the most sordid motives, was now 
raised against him throughout all the cotton-growing States. The State of 



128 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

Tennessee followed the example of South Carolina, in annulling the contract 
made with him ; and the attempt was made in North Carolina, but a com- 
mittee of the legislature, to whom it was referred, reported in his favor, 
declaring " that the contract ought to be fulfilled with punctuality and good 
faith," which resolution ^vas adopted by both houses. There were also 
hin-h-minded men in South Carolina, who were indignant at the dishonor- 
able measures adopted by their legislature of 1803 ; and their sentiments 
had impressed the community so favorably with regard to Mr. Whitney, 
that at the session of 1804, the legislature not only rescinded what the pre- 
vious one had done, but signified their respect for Mr. Whitney by marked 
commendations. Nor ought it to be forgotten that there were in Georgia, 
too, those who viewed with scorn and indignation the base attempts of 
demagogues to defraud him. The proceedings against Mr. Whitney were 
predicated upon impositions practiced upon the public. 

At this time, a new and unexpected responsibility devolved on Mr. 
Whitney, in consequence of the death of his partner, Mr. Miller, who died on 
the 7th of December, 1803. Mr. Whitney was now left alone, to contend 
singly against those difBculties which had for a series of years amost broken 
down the spirits of both the partners. But the favorable issue of tlie affairs 
of Mr. Whitney, in South Carolina, during the subsequent year, and the 
generous receipts that he obtained from the avails of his contracts with 
North Carolina, relieved him from the embarrassments under which he had 
so long groaned, and made him in some degree independent. Still no small 
portion of the funds thus collected in North and South Carolina, was ex- 
pended in carrying on the fruitless, endless lawsuits in Georgia. 

In the United States Court, held in Georgia, in December, 1807, Mr. 
Whitney obtained a most important decision, in a suit brought against a 
trespasser of the name of Fort. 

It was on this trial that Judge Johnson gave his celebrated decision in 
favor of Mr. Whitney. In the course of his remarks upon the case, he said: 
" There are circumstances in the knowledge of all mankind which prove the 
originality of this invention more satisfactorily to the mind than the direct 
testimony of a host of witnesses. The cotton plant furnished clothing to 
mankind before the age of Herodotus. The green seed is a species much 
more productive than the hlaclc, and by nature adapted to a much greater 
variety of climate ; but by reason of the strong adherence of the fiber to the 
seed, without the aid of some more powerful machine for separating it than 
any formerly known among us, tlie cultivation of it would never have been 
made an object. The machine of which Mr. Whitney claims the invention, 
.so facilitates the preparation of this species for use, that the cultivation of it 
has suddenly become an object of infinitely greater national importance 
than that of the other species ever can be. Is it, then, to be imagined, that 
if this machine had been before discovered, the use of it would ever have 
been lost, or could have been confined to any tract or country left unex- 
plored by commercial enterprise? But it is unnecessary to remark further 
upon this subject. A number of years have elapsed since Mr. Whitney 
took out his patent, and no one has produced or pretended to prove the ex- 
istence of a machine of similar construction or use. 

With regard to the utility of this discovery, the court would deem it a 



OP AMERICANS. 129 

waste of time to dwell long upon this topic. Is there a man who hears ua 
who has not experienced its utility ? the whole interior of the Southera 
States was languishing, and its inhahitants emigrating for want of some 
object to engage their attention and employ their industry, when the inven- 
tion of this machine at once opened views to them which set the wholo 
country in active motion. From childhood to ago it has presented to us a 
lucrative employment. Individuals who were depressed with poverty and 
sunk in idleness, have suddenly risen to wealth and respectahility. Our 
debts have been paid off; our capitals have increased, and our lands trebled 
themselves in value. We cannot express the weight of the obligation 
which the country owes to this invention. The extent of it cannot now be 
seen. Some faint presentiment may be formed from the reflection that 
cotton is rapidly supplanting wool, flax, silk, and even furs, in manufactures, 
and may one day profitably supply the use of specie iu our East India 
trade. Our sister States, also, participate in the benefits of this invention; 
for, besides afl'ording the raw material for their manufacturers, the bulki- 
ness and quantity of the article afford a valuable employment for their 
shipping." 

Even Judge Johnson, in the .above remarks, but feebly sets forth the 
advantages to our country which have accrued from this invention. Prior to 
that period cotton cloth was comparatively unknown. In 1784 an American 
vessel arrived at Liverpool, having on board, for part of her cargo, eiyht hags 
of cotton, which were seized by the officers of customs under the convic- 
tion that they could not be the growth of America, although the plant is 
natural to the soil. Now cotton is our great article of export, amounting 
annually in value to over one hundred millions of dollars. The demand 
is increasing in a greater ratio than we can supply; such are our advantages 
of soil and climate, that none can compete with us. Instead of measuring 
the value of this iuvention by hundreds of millions of dollars, thousands of 
millions could scarce compass it. But for it, it is jirobable that the cotton- 
growing States would have remained in a wilderness condition, and our 
country, as a whole, immeasurably behind her present state, in wealth, 
power, and population. 

The earliest seat of the cotton manufacture known to us was Hindostan, 
where it continues to be carried on by hand labor. America and Europe 
are now pouring back upon Asia her original manufacture, and under- 
selling her in her own markets. In the manufacture of no one article has 
the genius of invention been more called into exercise. It has not only 
built up our own Lowell and other thriving towns, but lai-ge cities in other 
lands, as Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, Paisley, etc. It is estimated to 
give employment to over a million of persons, and an amount of capital of 
millions upon millions of dollars. 

"Cotton goods, to a great extent, m.ay be seen freighting every vessel, 
from Christian nation.s, that traverses the globe ; and fdling the warehouses 
and shelves of the merchant.s, over two-thirds of the world. By the in- 
dustry, skill, and enterprise employed in the manufacture of cotton, man- 
kind are better clothed; their comfort better promoted; general industry 
more highly stimulated ; commerce more widely extended ; and civiliza- 
tion more rapidly advanced than in any preceding age. When the 



lyO ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

statistics on tlie subject aro examined, it appears that nearly all the cotton 
consumed in the Christian world, is the product of the slave-labor of the 
United States." The London Economist, says : " The lives of nearly two 
millions of our countrymen are dependent upon the cotton crops of 
America; their destiny may be said, without any kind of hyperbole, to 
hang upon a thread. Should any dire calamity befall the laud of cotton, a 
thousand of our merchant ships would rot idly in dock ; ten thousand mills 
must stop their busy looms ; two hundred thousaud mouths would starve, 
for lack of food." 

In the year 1812, Mr. Whitney applied to congress for a renewal of his 
patent, la his memorial, he presented a history of the struggles he had 
been forced to encounter in defense of his right, observing that he had been 
unable to obtain any decision on the merits of his claim until he had been 
eleven years in the law, and thirteen years of his patent term had expired. 
He sets forth, that his invention had been a source of opulence to thousands 
of the citizens of the United States; that, as a labor-saving machine, it 
Virould enable one man to perform the work of a thousand men; and that it 
furnishes to the whole family of mankind, at a very cheap rate, the most 
essential article of their clothing. Hence, he humbly conceived himself 
entitled to a further remuneration from his country. The very men whose 
wealth had been acquired by the use of this machine, and who had grown 
rich beyond all furmer example, had combined their exertions to prevent 
the patentee from deriving any emolument from his invention. Estimating 
the value of the labor of one man at twenty cents per day, the whole 
amount which had been received by him for his invention, was not equal to 
the value of the labor saved in one hour, by his machines then in use in the 
United States. Cotton is a more cleanly and healthful article of cultivation 
than tobacco and indigo, which it has superseded, and does not so much im- 
poverish the soil. This invention has already trebled the value of the land 
through a great extent of territory ; and the degree to which the cultivation 
of cotton may be still augmented, is altogether incalculable. This species 
of cotton has been known in all couutries where cotton has been raised, 
from time immemorial, but was never knovfn as an article of commerce, 
until since this method of cleaning it was discovered. It is objected that if 
the patentee succeeds in procuring the renewal of his patent, he will be too 
rich. There is no probability that the patentee, if the term of his patent 
was extended for twenty years, would ever obtain from his invention one- 
lialf as much as many an individual will gain by the use of it. Up to the 
present time, the whole amount of what he has acquired from this source 
(after deducting his expenses), does not exceed one-half the sum which a 
single individual has gained by the use of the machine in one year. It is 
true that considerable sums have been obtained from some of the States 
where the machine is used ; but no small portion of these sums has been 
expended in prosecuting his claim in a State where nothing has been ob- 
tained, and where his machine has been used to the greatest advantage. 

" Your memorialist has not been able to discover any reason why he, as 
well as others, is not entitled to share the benefits of his own labors. He 
who speculates upon the markets, and takes advantage of the neee.'isities of 
otliers, and by these means accumulates property, is called 'a man of enter- 



OF AMERICAXS. 131 

prise' — 'a man of business' — he is complimeiiteil for his talents, and is pro- 
tected by tlie laws. He, however, only gets into his possession that which 
was before in the possession of another ; he adds nothing to the public stock ; 
and can he who has given thousands to others, be thought unreasonable, if 
he asks one in return ? 

It is to be remembered, that the pursuit of wealth by means of new in- 
ventions, is a very precarious and uncertain one — a lottery where there are 
many thousand blanks to one prize. If you would hold out inducements 
for men of real talents to engage in these pui'suits, your rewards must be 
sure and substantial. Men of this description can calculate, and will know 
how to appreciate, the recompense which they are to receive for their labors. 
The number of those who succeed in bringing into operation really useful 
and important improvements, always has been, and always must be, very 
small. It is not probable that this number can ever be as great as one in a 
hundred thousand. It is therefore impossible that they can ever exert upon 
the community an undue influence. There is, on the contrary, much pro- 
bability and danger that their rights will be trampled on b}' the many." 

Notwithstanding those cogent arguments, the application was rejected by 
congress. Some liberal-minded and enlightened men from the cotton 
districts, favored the petition : but a majority of the members from that 
section of the Union, were warmly opposed to granting it. 

In a correspondence with the late Mr. Robert Fulton, on the same sub- 
ject, Mr. Whitney observes as follows : " The difficulties with which I 
have had to contend, have originated, principally, in the w-ant of a disposi- 
tion in mankind to do justice. My invention was new and distinct from 
every other — it stood alone. It was not interwoven with anything before 
known ; and it can seldom happen that an invention or improvement is so 
strongly marked, and can be so clearly and specifically identified ; and I 
have always believed, that I should have had no difficulty in causing my 
rights to be respected, if it had beeu less valuable, and been used only by a 
small portion of the community. But the use of this machine being im- 
menselj- profitable to almost every planter in the cotton districts, all were 
interested in trespassing upon the patent-right, and each kept the other in 
countenance. Demagogues made themselves popular by misrepresentation, 
and unfounded clamors, both against the right and the law made for its 
protection. Hence there arose associations and combinations to oppose 
both. At one time, but few men in Georgia dared to come into court, and 
testify to the most simple facts within their knowledge, relative to the use 
of the machine. In one instance, I had great difficulty in proving that the 
machine had been used in Georgia, although, at the same moment, there 
were three separate sets of this machinery in motion within fifty yards of 
the building in which the court sat, and .all so near that the rattling of the 
wheels was distinctly he.ard on the steps of the court-house." 

In 1798, Mr. Whitney being deeply impressed with the uncertainty of 
all his hopes, founded upon the cotton gin, directed his attention to the 
manufacture of arms for government. He selected a site near New Haven, 
and there erected a manufactory, around which grew up a beautiful little 
settlement of artisans. Owing to the low state of arts in our country, his 
constant oversight and attetition were required. " Mankind," said he, 
9 



132 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

■'generally arc not to be depended upon, and the best workmen I can find 
are incapable of directing. Indeed there is no branch of the work that can 
proceed well, scarcely for a siugle hour, unless I am present." Ili^genius, 
indeed, impressed itself on every part of the manufactory, extending even 
to the most common tools, all of which received some peculiar modification 
which improved them in accuracy, or efficacy, or beauty. His machinery 
for making the several parts of a musket was made to operate with the 
greatest possible degree of uniformity and precision. The object at which 
he aimed, and which ho fully accomplished, was to make the same parts of 
different guns, as the locks, for example, as much like each other as the 
successive impressions of a copper-plate engraving. It has generally been 
conceded that Mr. Whitney greatly improved the art of manufacturing arms, 
and laid his country under permanent obligations, by augmenting her facili- 
ties for national defense. 

Mr. Whitney died in 182.1. In person, he was commanding, and of an 
open, manly countenance. His manners were modest, unassuming, and he 
invariably won the respect of all with whom he was thrown in contact. No 
American, by the single exercise of his powers, has added so much to the 
wealth and prosperity of his country as Eli Whitney, the inventor of the 
Cotton Gin. 

nOBERT FULTON, THE STEAMBOAT INVENTOR. 

Little Britain, now called Fulton, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, 
was the birthplace of the indefatigable Robert Fulton, lie was born of 
Irish parentage in 1765, the same year w-hich gave birth to Eli Whitney. 
When a mere lad. he passed his leisure hours in the shops of mechanics, or 
in the use of his pencil. The four years previous to his majority, he sup- 
ported himself, in Philadelphia, by portrait and landscape painting. He 
then went to London to study painting under Benjamin West, with whom 
he remained for several years. He resided for a time in Devonshire, where 
he derived much benefit from the acquaintance of those eminent patrons of 
the mechanic arts, the Duke of Bridgewater, and the Earl of Stanhope. 

Internal navigation, by canals and improvements in machinery, now en- 
grossed his attention, and he abandoned his profession as an artist and 
became a civil engineer. In his profession he at once gained eminence, and 
was the author of several valuable inventions. In 1796 he published his 
Treatise on the Improvement of Canal Navigation, and soon after went to 
Paris, where he resided with Joel Barlow for seven years. At this time, 
his thoughts were turned tow.ard the subject of political economy, and he 
wrote a work, addressed to " the Friends of Mankind," in which he labora 
to show, that education and internal improvements would have a good effect 
on the happiness of a nation. lie judged it would take ages to establish 
the freedom of the seas by the common consent of nations ; he therefore 
turned his whole attention to find out some means of destroying ships of 
war, those engines of oppression, and to put it out of the power of any 
nation to maintain such a system ; and thus to compel ever}' government to 
adopt the simple principles of education, industry, and a free circulation of 
its produce. Out of such enlarged and philanthropic views and reflections 
grew Mr. Fulton's inventions for submarine navigation and exjilosions. 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 133 

Having gained tlie patronage of the French government, in the summer 
of 1801 he went to Brest, to maUe experiments in submarine navigation. 
Ho embarked with three companions on board his plunging-boat in the 
harbor, and descended to the depth of five, ten, fifteen, and so on to twenty- 
five feet ; but he did not attempt to go lower, because he found that his im- 
perfect machine would not bear the pressure of the water at a greater depth, 
llo found that she would tack and steer, and sail on a wind or before it, as 
well as any common sailing boat. He then struck her masts and sails ; to 
do which, and prepare for plunging, reciuired about two minutes. Having 
plunged to a certain depth, he placed two men at the engine, which was 
intended to give her ])rogressive motion, and one at the helm, while he, 
with a barometer before him, kept her balanced between the upper and 
lower waters. He found that with one hand he could keep her at any 
depth he ple;ised ; and that in seven minutes he had gone about the third 
of a mile. He could turn her round while under water, and return to the 
pilaoe he started from. These experiments were rejjeated for several days, 
till he became familiar with the operation of the machinery and the motion 
of the boat. He found that she was as obedient to her helm under water, 
as any boat could be on the surface ; and that the magnetic needle traversed 
as well in one situation as in the other. Satisfied with his boat, he next 
made some experiments with the torpedoes, or submarine bombs. 

A small vessel was anchored in the roads, and with a bomb, containing 
about twenty pounds of powder, he approached within about two hundred 
yards, struck the vessel and blew her into atoms. A column of water and 
fragments was blown near one hundred feet into the air. This experiment 
was made in the presence of the prefect of the department and a multitude 
of spectators. 

Through the summer he watched for English ships, to try the success of 
his invention in blowing up the enemy of France. No opportunity being 
afforded, the government refused him any farther encouragement, and, 
having received overtures from that of England, he proceeded to London. 
Several experiments were made, and some of them were failures ; but on 
the 15th of October, 1805, he blew up a strong built Danish brig of two 
hundred tuns burden, which had been provided for the experiment, and 
which was anchored in Walmar Roads, near the residence of Mr. Pitt. The 
torpedo used on this occasion contained one hundred and seventy pounds of 
powder; .and in fifteen minutes from the time of starting the machinery and 
throwing the torpedo into the water, the explosion took place. It lifted the 
brig almost entire, and broke her completely in two. The ends sunk ira- 
raediately, and in one minute nothing was to be seen of her but floating 
fragments. In fact, her annihilation was complete. 

Notwithstanding the complete success of this experiment, the British 
ministry seem to have been but little disposed to have anything further to 
do with Mr. Fulton, or his projects. Their object, evidently, had been to 
prevent his engines being placed in the h.ands of an enemy ; and if this was 
accomplished, it was the interest of England, as long as she was ambitious 
of the proud title of the mistress of the seas, to make the world believe that 
Mr. Fulton's projects were chimerical. 

In December, 1806, Mr. Fulton rrtumed to his native country, and im- 



134 ADVKXTUPvES AND ACHIEVEMEXTS 

mediately cii'^agcd in the projects, botli of snlmiaviiie war and steam-naviga- 
tion. In tlie succeeding July, lie blew up, witli a torpedo, in the harbor ot 
New York, a large hulk-brig, which had been prepared for the purpose. In 
1810, congress granted him five thousand dollars to make further experi- 
ments in submarine explosions. 

We must now, however, revert to an early period of his life, to trace from 
the beginning the progress of that great improvement in the arts, for which 
we, and all the world, are so much indebted to him : we mean the practical 
establishment of navigation by steam. At what time his attention was first 
directed to this subject, we do not know ; but it is ascertained that, in the 
year 1793, he had matured a plan, in which, even at that early day, he had 
great confidence. Mr. Fulton, when he conceived a mechanical invention, 
not only perceived the effect it would produce, but he could ascertain, by 
calculation, the power his combination would afford, how far it would bo 
adequate to his purpose, and what would be the requisite strength of every 
part of the machine : and though his numerical calculations did not always 
prove exact, and required to be corrected by experiments, yet they assured 
him of general results. 

It would be great injustice not to notice with due respect and commenda- 
tion the enterprises of the late Chancellor Livingston, who had so intimate 
a connection with Fulton in the progress and establishment of .steam-navi- 
gation. As early as 179S, Mr. Livingston represented to the legislature of 
New York, that he was possessed of a mode of applying the steam engine 
to propel a boat on new and advantageous principles; upon which, they 
passed an act, vesting him with the exclusive right and privilege of navi- 
gating all kinds of boats, which might be jiropelled by the force of fire or 
steam, on all the waters within the territory or jurisdiction of the State of 
New York, for the term of twenty years from the passing of the act ; upon 
condition that he should, within a twelve-mouth, build such a boat, the 
mean of whose progress should not be less than four miles an hour. Mr. 
Livingston, imiuediately after the passing of this act, built a boat of about 
thirty tuns burden, which was propelled by steam ; but, as she was incom- 
petent to fulfill the condition of the law, she was abandoned. Soon after he 
entered into a contract with Fidton, hy which it was, among other things, 
agreed, that a patent should be taken out in the United States in Fulton's 
name, which, Mr. Livingston well knew, could not be done without Mr. 
Fulton's taking an oath that the improvement was soleh' his. 

Fulton met Chancellor Livingston in Paris in 1802, and was induced by 
him to again turn his attention to the subject. In the summer of 1803, an 
experimental boat was built on the Seine, sixty-six feet long, and eight feet 
wide. The experiment was satisfactory to the spectators — not entirely so to 
Mr. Fulton, she being deficient in speed, owing to defective machinery. He, 
however, was so well satisfied of ultimate success, that he ordered of Watt 
and Bolton, of Birmingham, England, certain parts of a steam-engine to be 
made for him, and sent to America. He did not disclose to them for what 
purpose the engine was intended ; but his directions were such as would 
produce the p.irts of an engine, that might be put together within a compass 
suited for a boat. Mr. Livingston had written to his friends in this country, 
and, through their interference, an act was passed by the legislature of the 



OF AMERICAXS. 135 

State of Now York, on the otli of April, 1803, by which the rights and 
exclusive privileges of navigating all the waters of that State, by vessels 
propelled by fire or steam, granted to Mr. Livingston by the act of 1798, 
which, we have before mentioned, were extended to Mr. Livingston and 
Mr. Fulton, for the term of twenty years from the date of the new act 

Very soon after Mr. Fulton's arrival in New York, he commenced build- 
ing his first American boat While she was constructing, he found thaf 
her expenses would greatly exceed his calculations. He endeavored tu 
lessen the pressure on his own finances, by offering one third of the right, 
for a proportionate contribution to the expenses. 

In the spring of 1807, Fulton's first American boat was launched from 
the shi[>-yard of Charles Brown on the East River. The engine from Eng- 
land was put on board of her, and iu August she was completed, and was 
moved by her machinerj- from her birthplace to the Jersey shore. Mr. 
Livingston and Mr. Fulton had invited many of their friends to witness the 
first trial, among whom were those learned men, Dr. Mitchill and Dr. 
M'Neveu, to whom we are indebted for some account of what passed on 
this occasion. Nothing could exceed the surprise and admiration of all 
who witnessed the experiment The minds of the most incredulous were 
changed in a few minutes. Before the boat had made the progress of a 
quarter of a mile, the greatest unbeliever must have been converted. The 
man who, while he looked on the expensive machine, thanked his stars 
that he had more wisdom than to waste his money on such idle schemes, 
changed the expression of his features as the boat moved from the wharf 
and gained her speed, and his complacent expression gradually stifiened 
into one of wonder. The jeers of the ignorant, who had neither sense nor 
feeling enough to suppress their contemptuous ridicule and rude jokes, 
were silenced for a moment by a vulgar astonishment, which deprived 
them of the power of utterance, till the triumph of genius extorted from 
the incredulous multitude which crowded the shores, shouts and acclama- 
tions of congratulation and applause. 

This boat, which was called the Clermont, soon after made a trip to 
Albany. Mr. Fulton gives the following account of this voyage in a letter to 
his friend, Mr. Barlow. " My steamboat voyage to Albany and back, has 
turned out rather more favorable than I had calculated. The distance 
from New York to Albany is one hundred and fifty miles ; I ran it up in 
thirty-two hours, and down in thirty. I had a light breeze against me the 
whole way, both going and coming, and the voyage has been performed 
wholly by the power of the steam-engine. I overtook many sloops and 
schooners beating to windward, and parted with them as if they had been 
at anchor. The power of propelling boats by steam is now fully proved. 
The morning I left New York, there were not perhaps thirty persons in the 
city, who believed that the boat would ever move one mile an hour, or be 
of the least utility ; and while we were putting off from the wharf, which 
was crowded with spectators, I heard a number of sarcastic remarks. This 
is the way in which ignorant men compliment what they call philosophers 
and projectors. Having employed much time, money, and zeal, in accom- 
plishing this work, it gives me, as it will you, great pleasure to see it fully 
answer my expectations. It will give a cheap and quick conveyance to 



136 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

the merchandise on the Mississippi, Missouri, and other great rivers, which 
are now hn-ing open their treasures to tlie enterprise of our countrymen ; and 
although the prospect of personal emolument has been some inducement to 
me, yet I feel infinitely more pleasure in reflecting on the immense advan- 
tage that my country will derive from the invention," etc. 

Soon after this successful voyage, the Hudson boat was advertised and 
established as a regular passage-boat between New York and Albany. She, 
however, in the course of the season, met with several accidents, from the 
hostility of those engaged iu the ordinary navigation of the river, and 
from defects in her machinery. 

On the 11th of February, 180D, Mr. FuUon took out a patent for his in- 
Tentions iu navigation by steam, and on the 9th of February, 1811, he 
obtained a second patent fur some improvements in his boats and 
machinery. 

It having been found that the laws, granting to Livingston and Fnlton 
exclusive privileges, were insufficient to secure their enjoyment, the legisla- 
ture of New York, iu 1811, passed a supplementary act, giving certain 
summary remedies against those who should contravene the protecting 
laws. The act, however, excepts two boats which were then navigating the 
Hudson, and one which ran on Lake Champlain in opposition to Living- 
ston and Fulton : without these exceptions, the law, as to these boats, would 
have been ex post facto. In respect to these, therefor!, the parties were left 
to the same remedies as before passing the last act. The opposition boats 
on the Hudson, were at first to have been propelled by a pendulum, which 
some thought would give a greater power than steam ; but on launching 
their vessel, they found the machinery was not so easily moved as when 
she was on the .stocks. Having found, by experiment, that a pendulum 
would not supply the place of steam, and knowing no other way of apply- 
ing steam than that they saw practiced in the Fulton boats, they adopted 
all their machinery, with some small alterations, with no other view than 
to give a pretense for claiming to be the inventors of improvements on 
steamboats. 

On a trial for an injunction which ensued, the merits of the members of 
this Pendulum Company were contrasted with those of Fulton, by Mr. 
Emmet, the counsel for the appellants. He described them as "men who 
never wasted health and life in midnight vigils, and painful study, who 
never dreamt of science in the broken slumbers of an exhausted mind, and 
who bestowed on the construction of a steamboat just as much mathemati- 
cal calculation and philosophical reicarch, as 'n th-; purchase of a sack of 
wheat, or a barrel of ashes." 

From the time the first boat w-as put in motion till the death of Mr. 
Fulton, the art of navigating by steam was fast advancing to that perfection 
of which ho believed it capable : for some time the boat performed each 
successive trip with increased speed, and every year improvements were 
made. The last boat built by him was invariably the best, the most con- 
venient, and the swiftest. 

In the war of 1812, Mr. Fulton's ingenuity was called upon to furnish 
plans of his submarine warfare, as a defense to the harbor of New York. 
Congress also authorized him to build a steam-frigate for its defense, which 



OF AMERICANS. 137 

was named Fulton the First; but before she \v;is launched this i.igenious 
man was no more. 

During the whole time that Mr. Fulton had thus been devoting his 
talents to the service of his country, he had been harassed bj- lawsuits and 
controversies with those who were violating his patent-rights, or intruding 
upon his exclusive grants. The State of New Jersey had passed a law 
which operated against Mr. Fulton. He visited Trenton, the capital, and 
Bucceeded in obtaining its repeal. On his return he was exposed on the 
Hudson, which was very full of ice, for several hours. lie had not a coii- 
btitution to encounter such exposure, and upon his return, found himself 
much indisposed from the eflfeots of it. He had at that time great anxiety 
about the steam-frigate, and, after confining himself for a few days, he 
went to give his superintendence to the artificers employed about her. 
Forgetting his debilitated state of health in the interest he took in what 
was doing on the frigate, he remained too long exposed, in a bad day, to 
the weather on her decks. He soon felt the effects of this imprudence. 
His indisposition returned upon hira with such violence as to confine him 
to his bed. His disorder increased, and on the 24th day of February, ISlo, 
terminated his valuable life. 

Mr. Fulton was not the original inventor of the steamboat, nor never 
claimed to be. Many steamboats had been made before the Clermont, both 
in Europe and in Amei'ica; the most successful of which, was that con- 
structed by John Fitch, a Connecticut clock-maker. He built a steamboat 
on the Delaware propelled b}- paddles ; which, for about a month, in 1790, 
regularly plied as a passage-boat between Philadelphia and Bordcntovvn ; 
traversing in that period over two thousand miles. Her speed was, at 
times, eight miles an hour; and this with an engine manufactured in this 
country by common blacksmiths, under the supervision of Fitch. All that 
can be rightfully claimed for Fulton in this matter, is, that his experiment 
convinced the world of the practicability of steam-navigation ; so that 
steamboats have never ceased running from that day to this. 

S. F. B. MORSE, AXD THE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH. 

Samuel F. B. Morse, widely known as the inventor of the Magnetic 
Telegraph, is the eldest son of the Rev. Jedediah Morse, the first American 
geographer, and was born in Charlestown, Massachusetts, in 1791. He 
graduated at Yale College in 1810, and the year after went to London, to 
learn the art of painting. He made very rapid progress, and gave I'reat 
prooiise of surpassing oxcellsnce in the p'-ofession. "On his return to 
America, he settled in Boston, but he met with so little encouragement 
that he removed to Xew Hampshire, where ho found emplovraent in 
painting portraits at fifteen dollars per head. He was induced by his 
friends to remove to Charleston, South Carolina, and there his art proved 
more jirofitable. About 1822, lie took up his residence in New York, 
where he found his works and talents more justly appreciated, and his skill 
OS an artist put in requisition. Under a commission from the corporation, 
he painted a full-length portrait of Lafayette, then on a visit to the United 
States. It was shortly after this, that Mr. Morse formed that association 
of artists, which resulted 'n the establishment of the National Academv of 



138 ADVEXTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Design, of whioli he was elected president ; and it is worthy of note, that 
the first course of lectures on the subject of art read in America, was 
delivered by him before the New York Athenajum, and afterward repeated 
t<i the students of the academy. In 1829, he paid a second visit to Europe, 
and remained abroad three years. 

On his return from Europe, in the packet-ship Sully, in 1832, a gentle- 
man, in describing the experiments that had just been made in Paris with 
the electro-magnet, the question arose as to the time occupied by the 
electric fluid in pas.sing througli the wire, stated to be about one hundred 
feet in length. On the reply that it was instantane.ous (recollecting the 
experiments of Franklin), he suggested that it might be carried to any dis- 
tance, and that the electric spark could be made a means of conveying and 
recording intelligence. This suggestion, which drew some casual observa- 
tion of assent from the party, took deep hold of Professor Morse, who 
undertook to develop the idea which he had originated ; and, before 'the 
end of the voyage, he had drawn out and written the general plan of the 
invention with which his name will be inseparably connected. His main 
object was to effect a communication by means of the electro-magnet that 
would leave a permanent record by signs answering for an alphabet, ai]d 
which, though carried to any distance, would communicate with any place 
that might be on the line. His first idea was to pass a strip of paper, 
saturated with some chemical preparation, that would be decomposed wlieu 
brought in connection with the wire, along which the electric current wa3 
passing, and thus form an aljjhabet by marks, varying in width and number, 
that could be made upon the paper at the will of the operator, and by this 
means avoid separating the wire at the different points of communication. 

On his return to New York, he resumed his profession, still devoting all 
his spare time, under great disadvantages, to the perfection of his invention. 
Finding his original plan impracticable, he availed himself of the action of 
the electro-magnet upon the lever as a mode of using pens and ink, as in 
the ruling machine. Of these he had five, with the idea of securing the 
required characters from one of the pens. These he abandoned for pen- 
cils, and after a trial of various means for obtaining the end desired, and 
finding by experiment he could obtain any requisite force from the lever, 
he adopted the stylus or steel point for indenting the paper, and it is th'a 
lie has since used. 

After great difficulty and much discouragement, Professor Morse, .n 18o5, 
demonstrated the practicability of his invention, by completing and putting 
in operation in the New York University a model of his 'Recording Electric 
Telegrai)h ' — the whole apparatus, with the exception of a wooden clock, 
which formed part of it, having been made by himself. In 1837, he aban- 
doned his profession, with great regret, hoping to make his invention a 
means of resuming it, under easier and more agreeable circumstances. In 
the same year, ho filed his caveat at the patent-oflice in Washington ; and 
it is somewhat singular that, during this year (1837), Wheatstone, in Eng- 
land, and Steinheil, in Bavaria, both invented a magnetic telegraph, differ- 
ing from the American, and from each other. Wheatstone's is a very in- 
ferior, not being a recording telegraph, but requiring to be watched bv one 
of the attendants— the alphabet being made by the deflection of the needle. 



OF AMERICANS. 139 

Steinlieil's, on the contrary, is a. recording telegraph, but from its compli- 
cated and delicate machinery, has been found impracticable for extended 
lines. At a convention held in 1851 by Austria, Prussia, Saxony, Wirtem- 
berg, and IJavaria, for the jiurpose of adopting a nniform system of telegraph- 
ing for all Germany, by tlie advice of Steinheil, Professor Morse's was the 
cue selected. From the sultan of Turkey he received the first foreign 
a.knowledgment of his invention in the bestowal of a iiishau, or order — the 
•order of glory : ' a diploma to that effect was transmitted to hina with the 
magnificent decoration of that order in diamonds. The second acl<no\vlcdg- 
ment «as from the king of Prussia, being a splendid gold snuff-box, con- 
taining in its lid the Prussian gold medal of .scientific merit. The latest 
acknowledgment is from the king of Wurteraberg, who transmitted to him 
(after the adoption of the Telegraph treaty by the convention above men- 
tioned) the 'Wurtemberg Gold Medal of Arts and Sciences.' In 1S38, ho 
went to England, for the purpose of securing a patent there, but was refused, 
through the influence of Wheatstono and his friends, under the pretense 
that bis invention had already been published there. All that could be 
adduced in proof of this was the publication in an English scientific 
periodical of an extract copied from the New York '.Journal of Commerce,' 
stating the results of his invention, without giving the means by which 
they were produced. In the following spring, he returned to this country, 
and in 1840 perfected his patent at Washington, and set .ibout getting his 
telegraph into practical operation. 

In ISM, the first electric telegraph was completed in the United States, 
between Baltimore and Washington ; and the first intelligence of a public 
character which passed over the wires was the announcement of the nomina- 
tion of James K. Polk, as the democratic candidate for the presidency, by 
the Baltimore conveution. Since then, he has seen its wires extended all 
over the country, to the length of thousands of miles — an extent unknown 
elsewhere in the civilized world. His success has led to the invasion of his 
patent-rights by others, whom he has finally succeeded in defeating, after an 
expensive and protracted litigation." 

The greatest triumph of Professor Morse, we hope, will bo found in the 
success of the submarine telegraph between America and Europe, efforts 
being now prosecuted to lay the cable across the Atlantic. "The honor of 
having laid the first permanent telegraph under water, belongs to the Eng- 
lish, in laying that from Dover to Calais. But the first conception of, and 
the first attempt at submarine telegraphic communication, were the fruit of 
the genius of our countryman, Professor Samuel F. B. Morse. 

In the Kew York Herald of 17th Octobei, 1842, the following paragraph 
occurs: 'Professor Morse will perform a highly interesting experiment 
with his electro-magnetic telegraph, by which a correspondence will be 
carried on between Castle Garden and Governor's Island.' On tlie follow- 
ing day the same journal refers again to the subject, and predicts that 'it is 
destined to work a complete revolution in the mode of transmitting intel- 
ligence tliroughont the civilized world.' 

On the night of 18th October, Professor Morse set out from Castle Garden 
in a small boat, with one man to row. In the stern sheets he had a coil of 
wire, insulated by being wrapped in cotton tliread covered with a coating of 



140 ADVENTURES AXD ACIIIEVEJIEXT3 

asplialtum and India rubber; this he 'paid out' as the boatman rowcrl 
across to Governor's Island, and had the satisfaction of making fast the end 
to a battery on the island some time before daybreak. Thus far all had 
been propitious. But when the sun rose, Professor Morse discovered, vfith 
dismay, that after he had laid his wire, two or three vessels had anchored 
directly over it. He foresaw the consequence. When the people assem- 
bled, and the hour of trial came, the battery was set to work, and the 
professor, with a trembling hand, essayed to send a message to the island. 
He succeeded in transmitting a few marks, but they were illegible ; the 
anchors had fouled the wire and destroyed its insulation ; the crowd went 
home convinced that telegraphic communication under water was 'all 
humbug ; ' and the professor was hardly consoled by a letter of thanks and 
a gold medal from the institute, and a fair appreciation by the press. 

Somewhat discouraged, in truth, but, of course, firm in confidence, Pro- 
fessor Morse applied his mind to the transmission of the electric current 
across rivers without the aid of wires. This experiment was successfully 
performed, and the current sent across the canal at Washington, without in- 
tervening wire, in presence of man}' members of congress and distinguished 
persons, in December, 1842. Nothing came of it. But Professor Morse 
was so well satisfied that his failure at Castle Garden was only a step to 
the success of submarine telegraphs, that he wrote to the Secretary of the 
Treasury, on 10th August, IS-IS : 'The practical inference to be drawn 
from the law (which he had developed), is, that a telegraphic communica- 
tion may be established across the Atlantic. Startling as this may now 
seem, the time will come when this project will be realized.' 

Nor does the professor stand alone. In the winter of 1842-3, Colonel 
Coll laid a submarine telegraphic wire across from New York to Brookl3'n, 
and from Long Island to Coney Island. This wire, which was laid for the 
purpose of obtaining early marine news, worked for some time to the 
public satisfaction. 

It was not till five years afterward that the Dover and Calais line was 
laid. Public opinion was against it; aud when the wire was actually laid, 
and messages passing to and fro, the wise men still said that it could not 
be. Some declared that the messages were a fraudulent imposture ; others 
simply shrugged their shoulders. One of our leading periodicals, in allud- 
ing to the event, said, with a sneer, ' The thing actually seems to work, 
for the present.' 

Other lines rapidly followed — the Dover and Ostend line, the Liverpool 
aid D iblin, the line ti the Hague, thn line from Pieimort to nardiida aid 
Corsica, and the Newfoundland line, on this side of the ocean," eie. 

GEOKGE STEERS, THE AMERICAN SHIP- ARCHITECT. 

One of the most melancholy chapters in the history of almost every man 
of genius, whose beneficent labors have made the earth better by his 
residence upon it, is that which tells of the nnsdirection of his earliest 
efforts in the great battle of life, and the time lost, and the discouragements 
encountered in the vain attempt to do what nature never intended he 
should do. The right man has to fight his way into the right place, 
through a thousand discouraging obstacles, but he finds it at last. 



C.F AMEiUOAXS. 141 



FuUoii spent the best yaaw of his lii'o in piihiving biJ hi»toric;\l pictures;' 
which are only remembered now because they were painted hy him. The 
great engineer and inventor, whose beneficent genivis has done so mudi for 
mankind, frittered away his early manhood in designing allegorical compo- 
sitions as illustrations of Jorl Baulewis epic poem. But Fulton found the 
lilace at last, and the glory of his name will cover fade from the memory of 
men. 

It was the good fortune of George Steers to be born into the very sphere 
where his natural genius could be employed to the best advantage for him- 
self and the world. His father was a ship-carpenter, an Englishman by 
birth, and a resident of the City of Washington, where George was born, iu 
the year 1819 ; but fortunately for him, the elder Steers removed to the 
City of New York, to work at his trade ; and among the operations in 
which he engaged, was the building of the famous Marine Railway, com- 
monly known as the Dry Dock. The father of George Steers was re- 
markable for his integrity of character and perfect uprightness ; and it is a 
circumstance worth mentioning, that when the distinguished son of this 
honest man had taken the contract to build the great steam-ship Adriatic, 
a gentleman, who was an entire stranger to him, volunteered to be one of 
his bondsmen, because he had been acquainted with his father, and knew 
him to be "as honest a man as ever breathed." 

The region of the Dry Dock was, and still is, devoted to the business of 
ship-building iu all its branches ; it was here the young lad Steers passed 
his early years, and, in fact, his whole life. While his father was employed 
upon the Marine Eailwaj-, George made himself useful in the humble 
occupation of tending the "pitch-kettle;" but he did not confine himself 
to that humble employment : his mind was occupied in inventing models 
of boats and ships, which he pnit successfully into shape as opportunities 
occurred. His first practical effort at ship-building, was in the construction 
of a flat-boat, when he was but ten years old, which was eight feet long. 
His mind was of so practical a character, and his instincts so sure, that he 
never manifested any desire to obtain information from books, or cared to 
listen to the suggestions of others. Though one of the most modest 
natures in the world, he never had the slightest misgivings as to the cor- 
rectness (jf his own theories, nor would he yield his own opinions to the 
dictations of another. It was, perhaps, unfortunate for him that he had not 
enjoyed greater advantages of schooling : not that schooling could have 
done anything for him toward making him a better builder of ships, but a 
belter scqua'ntame with lileralu-e, aid th ! scientific formula nf hi i art, 
ivould have enabled him to appear to much better advantage, and have 
gained him a readier acknowledgment of his inventive genius. Those who 
knew him best, had unbounded confidence iu his ability; but to strangers, 
it seemed verj' naturally questionable that a man whose general education 
was .so limited should so much excel all others in his noble profession. 
But it did not take long for him to gain the utmost confidence of those 
with whom he came in contact. 

He continued to make models for boats, until ho became a master in his 
art, at an age when other boys were but beginning to learn. -4t the age of 
sixteen, he tried and built a sail-boat sixteen feet long, named the Martin 



143 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Van Biiren : for Gcoptc was always a decided democrat in Lis political 
principles. This boat beat the Gladiator, a famous sailer, three miles, in a 
race of twenty-four. Two years afterward, he built the John C. Stevens, 
a row-boat, twenty-one feet long, three feet ten inches broad, and thirteen 
inches deep ; it weighed but one hundred and forty pounds, and, with a full 
crew on board, drew but four inches of water. The John C. Stevens was 
believed to be the lightest and fleetest boat in the world ; but, however that 
might be, it is very certain that she beat the fastest boats that New York 
could produce, in several match races. 

George was never put to a regular apprenticeship, but, at the age of 
sixteen, ho went to work in the ship-yard of Jabez Williams, with whom 
he continued a year and a half. While he was in the yard of Mr. Wil- 
liams, ho asked the foreman to be allowed to do a certain piece of work, to 
"square tlie wales," which the foreman refused to do, on account of his 
youth. But George appealed to the "Boss," who granted him the privi- 
lege asked for, and he finished the job to the satisfaction even of tha 
foreman. 

After leaving the ship-yard of Mr. Williams, he entered the employ of a 
ship-builder, named Hathorne, whose partner he became subsequently. But 
he did not remain long with him as an employee : his object being to gain 
all the practical knowledge that could be acquired in a particular position, 
and when that Avas done, he transferred himself to the ne.\t best place. 
After leaving Mr. Ilathorne, he was now employed by W. H. Brown, a, 
celebrated ship-builder, in laying oiT the model of the frigate Kamschatka, 
built for the emperor of Russia. Though not yet nineteen years' old, he 
took the job of putting on the deck of this frigate. lie also, in connection 
with two other young men, "lumped" a ship to build for the great ship- 
builder W. II. Webb ; and found time to build a sail-boat, the Mauhaltes, 
of nearly thirty tuns. 

In 1843, when he was twenty-four j'ears old, he entered into partnership 
with his old "boss," Mr. Ilathorne, who was one of the first yacht builders 
in the counUy, and a favorite with the celebrated Stevens, of Hoboken, for 
whom he had built several steamboats and yachts. The first vessel built 
by the new firm was the steamboat Columbia, on which Mr. Steers per- 
formed the greatest day's work that any ship-carpenter was ever known to 
accomplish. He fitted and erected forty-five stanchions on the guard, cut- 
ting the holes in the oak plank sheer, tenanting them into the facing under- 
neath the beams. He was not, like many inventors, an idle dreamer, but 
a hard-fisted, thorough-going, conscientious mechanic. Though always ex- 
tremely temperate in his habits, he was the very reverse of niggardly, and 
never made money a primary consideration in any of his undertakings. 
His great pride was to excel in his profession. While in partnership with 
Mr. Ilathorne, he built a groat number of vessels of various kinds ; but one 
of his great successes was the pilot, W. G. Ilaokstaff, which beats all the 
boats of that class sailing out of the port of Now York. On dissolving with 
Mr. Ilathorne, Steers built a small steamer on Seneca Lake, and two pro- 
pellers, at Rochester, for Lake Ontario ; one of which, the Ontario, was one 
of the fines* boats of her class. Returning to New York, he engaged again 
in his favjrite business of yaclu building; and among the vessels of thai 



OF AMERICANrf. 



143 



kind, which he modeled and constructed, was the beautiful schooner the 
Una, which soon made a name for herself among the Yacht Sijuadrou. la 
the year 1848, Mr. Steers engaged as foreman for W. H. Brown, the 
largest ship-builder hi New York, and laid down the molds for two of the 
Collins' steamships, the Atlantic, and the ill-fated Arctic. 

The next step of Mr. Steers, was in the direction which has given hira 
his great renown as an inventor in the modeling of sailing-vessels. In build- 
ing a pilot-boat, called the Mary Taylor, he brought to perfection his theory 
of hollow water lines ; and all his subsequent models wei-e but little more 
than the expansion of the lines and proportions of this famous vessel.* The 

• '■ This system was couceived wbea a mere boy, nud is based npon the assumption 
that for a vessel to sail easily, steadily, and rapidly, the displacement of water must Ik 
nearly uniform along the lines. Wlieu he laid the keel of the pilot-boat Mary 
Tayloi-, he engaged in advance, to make a faster, a dryer, and a steadier craft than had 
ever left the port of New York, so confident uas he of bis power, and he succeeded 
exactly according to his expectations. Previous to this achievement, a vessel had never 
been built where the ecuter of displacement had not been forward of the beam. Fears 
were generally entertained that this • new form ' would prove a failure. Some pi-edicted 
that this vessel would plunge under water, othci's thought that in rongh weather no cue 
could live on deck, all of which prophecies arc certainly coutradictcd by fact. For, en- 
countering less resistance from the narrow bows, the vessel went faster, and experienced 
uo corresponding strain, and sutlcred no more in rough weather than in the summer 
breeze. The advantages of Mr. Steers' system of ship-huilding may be thus summed 
up : greater speed with the same tannage and canvas ; greater stability ia the vessel — 
that is, an increased hold upon the water : greater evenness aud equality of motion, re- 
sulting from au equalized leverage — since the masts, as levers, work more uniformly 
■ upon the fulcrum of the ship ; greater endurance, because there is less strain iu rapid 
sailing, or in lough weather ; steadiness of motion, which enables her, in sailing, to keep 
close to the wind, aud lose but little leeway." 

"As most of our readers are not conversant witli the technicalities of ship-building 
terms, we have endeavored, in the accompanying diagram, to give the relative position 
of the beam — or extreme breadth — as it occurred in the old style of vessels aud in thos« 
of Steel's. 




Fio. 1, represents the shape of vesjcls on the old plan — the dotted line being tbe 
position of the beam. 

Fio. 2 riau of Steeif , as shown in the vncht .America. 



144 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Mary Taylor was a wonder for her sailing qualities, and excited unbounded 
admiration among amateur yacht-men and ship-builders. lu 1850, the 
keel of the world renowned America was laid, and also that of the hardly 
less celebrated yacht Sylvia. The America has become one of the most 
famous vessels that ever floated. She was built expressly to compete with 
England in her own waters, for the championship of the seas, so far as 
speed was concerned, and she came off victorious. It was regarded as a 
national victory ; and the young ship-builder, who had been hitherto un- 
known, became at once one of the most famous men of the day, and the pet of 
his admiring countrymen. Mr. Steers went over in the yacht expressly to 
manage her in the great race. lie had an instinctive knowledge in sailing 
a vessel, and would carry a sail to the last moment ; when all but himself 
were blanched with fear at his boldness, he kept his post at the helm per- 
fectly serene and self-possessed: for he knew the exact strain which his 
boat could bear, and the right moment to give her relief. 

The yacht America was built for the New York Yacht Club. The 
terms were that the builder should be paid forty thousand dollars, if she 
beat, in a race, the sloop Maria, and but half of that sum if she failed. 
There was never a fair trial of speed between the two vessels, raid only tho 
smaller sum was paid. 

On his return to New York, after his great victory at Cowes with the Americii, 
(See page 615), Mr. Steers was received with every mark of distinction and 
respect ; he was honored by a public dinner, given him by the mechanics of 
the city, and was also a guest at the dinner given by the Yacht Club, iu 
commemoration of their victory. He bore all these honors modestly, and 
resumed his business again, with as much earnestness as ever, as though he 
had not achieved so great a success. He built a great number of yachts, 
and, at every regatta of the Yacht Club, some of his boats carried off tho 
prizes. He also built several ships and steamboats. But his fame had not 
yet culminated. A larger and more honorable field was open before him. 
In the year 1854, congress having made an appropriation for six steam- 
frigates of the largest class, it was decided to allow one of them to be built 
by a ijrivate architect, or, at least, one not in the service of the government ; 
and though there was great competition for the honor of building this 
ship, which was to be the largest of all, the secretary of the navy, to the 
great satisfaction of the country, decided to bestow the favor npon Mr. 



" Among meclianical tiiiniipljs, nothing can be more beautiful than the mojels of 
George Steers' sliips — tlicy are lil<e the handiwork of Cellini for delicacy of execution, 
and yet, lil<e the toreo of Ans;elo, suggest mighty results. It was in the closet— in 
the retiracy of his modest worl<-sho[), that Steei-s solved the mighty problems which 
enter iuto naval architecture, and speculating, like another Franklin or Lapbice, upon 
the laws of nature, studied to overcome fnction in propelling the weighty argosies 
through the great deep; and so perfectly did he enter into the arcana of nature's in- 
most temples, that every step of progress he made was through means sublimely simple, 
and accomplislied amid a halo of the most perfect beauty. His ships, like all master 
works of art, seem to be boru of inspiration — the intense labor which produced them 
is entirely lost sight of iu the suggestion that they ore the result alone of a creatiro 
|)OW«r '' 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 145 

Steers. It was a proud distinction for tlie young mechanic, and most nobly 
did he justify the choice of the secretary. The superb Niagara, the h\rge.st 
.-md fastest man-of-war afloat, was the result. No opportunity has yet been 
offered for thoroughly testing the capacity of this magnificent ship; but 
enough h.as been done to establish her superiority over every other vessel iu 
our own navy. She, as is well known, was the vessel selected to assist in 
laying down the telegraphic wire across the Atlantic. 

The Launching of this huge vessel was a triumph of mechanical skill, and 
as she slid gracefully and swiftly from her ways into the water, her excited 
architect leaped from the ground in exultation at his success. " And then, 
the next moment," says a friend, who was with him, "as the united cheers 
of ten thousand rent the air, the modesty of the simple-hearted man re- 
ceived such a shock, that he at once shrank from observation, and became 
personally lost in the crowd of heaving, exultant human beings that sur- 
rounded him. Relieved from the presence of observers, and standing on 
the deck of the newly-born ship, he walked over the vast area, pointed out 
the advantages he calculated would be gained by her construction, imagined 
the stars and stripes floating aloft, and then coming to the immense em- 
brasure*, in his glowing imaginings, he ran out the tremendous guns in- 
tended for the Niag.ara's armament, and asked, with a proper glow of pride, 
'what vessel could successfully dispute her supremacy on her ocean home?' 
It was a sublime spectacle thus to witness the great commander triumphant 
upon his own deck — it w.as a new thing to behold a victory so complete, so 
mighty in its results, unaccompanied by the shedding of blood, unstained 
by a single aggre.'^sive act. We admired, nay, venerated, the man, and in- 
v.'ardly thanked Heaven that among all our national blessings we could 
reckon the wealth of the constructive mind of George Steers, who was so 
eminently adding luster to our acknowledged supremacy of the seas, and 
thus collecting under our glorious flag not only the largest marine in the 
world, but also adding the additional graces of specimens unsurpassed in ex- 
cellence of shape, and unapproached in speed." 

But this monster ship did not engross all his thoughts, nor all his time, 
while she was in process of construction he modeled and built another beau- 
tiful yacht the Widgeon, and took the contract for the steam ship Adriatic, 
for the Collins' line of steam-packets. The model of this ship has been 
pronounced nearer perfection than that of any other vessel afloat, while she 
is the largest wooden ship that has ever been built ; the iron ship. Great 
Eastern, alone excelling her in dimensions. 

The Adriatic was his last work. She w.xs launched in tlie presence of 
the greatest crowd that was ever assembled on a similar occasion. It was a 
splendid triumph for the self-reliant, self-taught mechanic. After the 
launch, the proprietors of the line gave a banquet, at a hotel in Broadway, 
in honor of the occasion, to wdiich, of course, the builder of the ship was 
invited, and was expected to be the principal guest. But, when all the 
company were assembled there was the vacant chair at the head of the 
table ; all eyes were watching for the entrance of the man in whose honor 
the feast was given ; but he did not come. lie was sent for, and found in 
his ship yard directing liis workmen, not having deemed it worth his while 
to attend the festival. This was a characteristic trait of his modest nature. 



liG ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

All that he aimed at was to do hi^ work perfectly. The glorification which 
followed he never thought about. 

The completion of the Niagara and the Adriatic was the culmination of 
his aspirations ; he had abundantly proved to the world that he was not a 
mere builder of yachts and pilot boats, and, in spite of all opposition had 
demonstrated on the largest scale that the principles he had adopted were as 
true in their application to the largest class of ships, as they were to the 
smallest boats. The huge Adriatic of six thousand tuns burden was but a 
big yacht ; and she was linished in every part with the accuracy and ele- 
gance that he bestowed upon his smaller craft. 

He had now reached the point at which he had been aiming ; his talents were 
recognized, and he had made grand calculations for the future. Preparatory 
to putting his new schemes in practice, he had dissolved partnership with 
liis elder brother James, and there were large capitalists who stood ready to 
invest any amount of capital he might require in the prosecution of his 
jjlans. But it was not ordained that he should achieve any more triumphs. 

On the 26th of September, in the year 1856, he drove out on Long Island 
with a pair of gay horses, to bring home his wife and children, who had been 
spending the summer at a farm house. The horses took fright and he was 
either thrown or leaped from the carriage, and he was found a few minutes 
afterward lying upon the ground insensible. His fall was fatal and he never 
spoke again. 

His funeral was attended more largely than that of any private citizen 
who had died in New York, and every mark of affection and respect was 
paid to his memory. He died, like Byron and Raphael, in his thirty-seventh 
year, just as his genius was at its full vigor, and when he seemed about to 
commence his career. But he had done enough to insure him renown, and 
his deatli was lamented as a national loss, as it undoubtedly was. 

In person George Steers was tall and vigorous, his complexion was florid, 
and his eyes were a dark blue. His countenance had a remarkable expression 
of honesty and simplicity. He was extremely liberal, yet careful in money 
matters ; and, though he had never thought of saving for his family, he left 
them in comfortable circumstances. Ho is buried in Greenwood Cemetery 
and a very elegant marble monument, erected by his widow, marks the place 
of his interment. Among the testimonials he had received, was a very costly 
ring, set with precious stones which was sent to him by the Emperor Nicholas 
of Russia, and, if he and his imperial admirer had lived, it is probable that 
he would have been employed to rebuild the Russian Navy. 

CHARLES GOODYEAR, THE INVENTOR OP VULCANIZED INDIA-RUBBER. 

j\Iiddle aged men recollect when they were boys that the only use of 
India-rubber was for the purpose of obliterating marks made by the lead 
j)encil. But the manufacturing spirit of our days having formed an alliance 
with chemistry, the result has been that this among other materials has risen 
into great importance and of varied uses for the welfare of society. 

"With regard to the material itself, we shall just state that it was first 
seen in Europe about the middle of the last century ; that it was soon afterward 
discovered to be the gum, or, more properly, the coagulated juice of certain 
troiiioal trees, the chief of which is the celebrated Si^honia elaat-ica of the 



OF AMERICANS. 147 

Brazilian forests ; tb.it by the natives it was called caoutcliouc ; by the 
chemists, from its singular elasticity, gum-elastic ; and by the common 
people, from its valuable property of cleaning paper. India-rubber. Its phy- 
sical properties, indeed, as a whole, are perfectly unique. By far the most 
elastic substance in nature, it is insoluble in water, iu alcohol, or in any of 
the mineral acids ; but it dissolves readily in ether or naptha ; and, above 
all, it possesses the power of agglomerating, or, in plain language, of adher- 
ing again when cut, if the separate pieces are brought together. No other 
substance, we may add, is so valuable to the analytical chemist. Wo have 
the high authority of the Baron Justus von Liebig for stating, that to the 
increased facilities which the flexible tubes and sheets of India-rubber have 
given in the laboratory, we owe many of the brightest discoveries in organic 
chemistry. 

Now, it happened about twenty-five years ago, tliat the method of pro- 
ducing thin sheets of India-rubber was applied to the invention of water- 
proof cloth garments; and large manufactories for this purpose were estal)- 
lished both in Europe and in America. The celebrated Macintosh fabric^ 
so popular in the days of stage-coach traveling, belong to this era of the 
trade. But, unfortunately, one or two awdiward circumstances connected 
with the material, which had hitherto almost escaped notice, began to appear 
in the most unmistakable manner. India-rubber, it was found, like all other 
vegetable substances, had a tendency to unite with the oxygen of the atmos- 
phere, and decompose ; and while perfectly elastic at all ordinary tempera- 
tures, it had the fatal peculiarity of becoming soft with heat and hard with 
cold. It was related in South Carolina, that a stout gentleman, traveling one 
day under a hot sun with a waterproof coat on, became glued up into an 
outer integument, from which no skill could extricate him. Another unfor- 
nate man in Michigan, who wore a full suit of the treacherous fabric, was 
seen to leave a hot room on a cold winter evening, his clothes to all appear- 
ance quite soft and pliable. Next morning, he was found among the snow 
on the high road frozen to death, with the fatal garments around him as 
stiff as buckram, and as hard as iron." 

From these causes, among others we need not stay to mention, the original 
India-rubber manufacture gradually sunk in importance, and indeed soon 
became extinct. But in a few years it was destined to rise from its ashes, 
and through the persevering experiments of Mr. Charles Goodyear. This gen- 
tleman, the son of a manufacturer, vi'as born in New Haven, Connecticut, in 
the year 1800. He appears to have inherited a genius for invention, for his 
father was the inventor of several useful articles, particularly of the spring 
steel hay and manure forks, which he manufactured, together with metal 
and pearl buttons, spoons, sythes, etc. In the year 1826, ho went to Phil- 
adelphia with his family, and engaged in the domestic hardware busines.s, 
in connection with the manufactin-ing establishment in Connecticut. This 
was the fir.';t establishment for the sale of domestic hardware in the United 
States, and w.is considered by many, a visionarj' enterprize, for to that period 
the whole trade in hardware had been in imported articles. It was however 
for a time eminently successful, and a handsome fortune was accumulated 
by the firm ; yet, in consequence of too extended operations in different 

10 



I-IS ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

states, too lilicral croJits and heavy losses, in 1830 the firm was obhged to 
suspend payments. 

About two years after this the manufacture of gum-elastic was begun in 
the United States, but not in the immediate vicinity of where he then vifas. 
lie observed all he heard or could ascertain respecting it with critical interest, 
and commenced experimenting with it, mixing the gum by hand and spread- 
ing it on a marble slab with a rolling pin. By the disinterested and timely 
aid of a friend, he was enabled to continue his experiments in this manner, 
and with the aid of a few hands ho succeeded in making a few hundred 
pairs of shoes. This manufacture was carried on during the winter of 1835-6, 
iu a small cottage in New Haven, which served also as a family residence. 

The failure of these experiments was a signal one, as on the return of 
warm weather thoy all decomposed and became one mass of melted gum. 
" This circumstance was very discouraging, and might have induced any one 
of a less enthusiastic turn of mind to abandon the project altogether. But 
Goodyear, it shoidd seem, was no common-place inventor. With astonish- 
ing perseverance, he set about acquiring the clieniistry of the subject ; and 
it is pleasing to relate that in this direction his efforts were at length crowned 
with success. He discovered that if India-rubber were combined at a high 
temperature with certain proportions of sulphur and the oxide of lead, its 
whole physical nature was changed, that it was now proof against the process 
of vegetable decay, and that it remained uniformly elastic under the most 
considerable variations of temperature. This singular compound he ushered 
into the world in due time under the title of Vulcanized India-rubber." 

During the first years of his experiments, until after he had discovered the 
heating or vulcanizing process, and had become certain that ho had obtained 
his object, he made it an invariable practice to test the various experiments 
by wearing some article of apparel made from the material, that he might aa 
soon as possible arrive at correct conclusions, the wearing of gum-elastic 
about the person being one of the severest tests to which it can be ajiplied. 
An anecdote is related which exhibits in its true light, the opinion uf the 
public as to his enthusiasm and also as to his poverty. A gentleman, asking 
how he might recognize him, received for an answer, " If you meet a man 
who has on an India-rubber cap, stock, coat, vest, and shoes, with an India- 
rubber purse without a cent of money in it, that is lie!" 

Late in the summer of 1836, Mr. Goodyear removed to Roxburj', Massa- 
chusetts, where he carried on his experiments with indefatigable perseverance, 
notwithstanding frequent imprisonments for debt, and the strong opposition 
of his friends. It was during the winter of 1839-40, a j-ear after tlie dis- 
covery of the vulcanization process, and that he became convinced of the 
real value of his discovery, that the greatest discouragements were met 
with. During this period his family were sometimes destitute of food and 
fuel. The great difficulty now remained to bring the minds of others to ap- 
preciate the subject as he did himself, and it wa-s not until some years later 
that the manufacture was established on a profitable basis. 

The importance of this invention was very great. Vulcanized India-rubber 
after awhile became the rage ; all sorts of things were made from it — rail- 
way springs and buffers, machinery belts, elastic hands and air-cushion,<, 
waterproof garments of every description, all kinds of bandages, and a num- 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 149 

ber of surgical iiistrumetits. These things all created a large demand for 
the material ; but it was soon found that the article which consumed most 
and sold best was the waterproof shoes ; and in a few years after the invention 
Wiis made public, there sprang up several large establishments in Connecticut, 
in Rhode Island, in New Jersey, and in Massachusetts, which manufacture 
about five million pair every year, and give employment to upward of five 
thousand people. 

Similar manufactories have also been established in England, Scotland, 
France, and Germany. It is estimated a capital of fifty millions of dollars, 
is now employed in the business of Vulcanized India-rubber. 

Mr. Goodyear, owing to the almost interminable lawsuits^which follow 
upon the heels of every great invention, and the continuation of his expen- 
sive experiments in developing the applications and uses, and in improving 
the manufacture, has not to this day realized a competency sufficient to free 
him from business embarrassments. Large fortunes, however, have been 
made and are now making by manufacturers in the difi'erent kinds of India- 
rubber goods. 

SAMUEL COLT, THE INVENTOR OP THE REPEATING FIRE-ABM;. 

War, appears to have been one of ihe principal occupations of our race. 
But as mind in this, as in all other callings, is certain to triumph, it so results 
tlnit the less cultivated nations and races are conquered by the more intel- 
lectual, who introduce the knowledge of their own arts to the vanquished 
and thus in the end bless them, through an introductory suffering and 
defeat. War is therefore called an instrument of civilization, and, so it is, 
.f we read rightly the lessons taught by history. 

In the earlier ages of the world, wars were of long duration, for so im- 
perfect was the knowledge of the militarj'- art and so rude the weapons in 
use, that great length of time was necessary to inflict enough injury upon 
an enemy to compel him to peace. The day however is past, when a war com- 
menced in one's boyhood will last until he is a grandfather, and then, with 
a slight intermission be succeeded by another, of as long duration. The in- 
ventions of modern times have put an end to these intenninable wars, by 
making them too terrible for long continuance, for they leave a memory of 
them so severe upon the generation engaged, that they are careful not to 
again rashly enter upon the arena of blood. The effect now is, vv'ars, short 
and severe, with long intervals of rest, which give the nations the leisure to 
advance in the arts of peace. In this view this class of inventors must be 
judged among the benefactors of the race. If a machine were invented and 
could be readily used, by which a few men could instantly and unfailingly, 
at once destroy a thousand lives, wars among civilized nations would cease 
forever, and nations low in the scale would more speedily, and with com- 
paratively little sufi'eriiig, be brought under their pupilary subjection. The 
Inventor of such a machine would prove a greater benefactor of his race, 
than he who should endow a thousand hospitals. 

Colonel Samuel Colt, the eminent inventor of the repeating fire-arms, was 
born at Hartford, Connecticut, July 19, 1814. Ills father was a manufac- 
turer of wotd, and cotton, and finally of silk, of which last article, he es- 
tablished the first manufactory in New England. 



150 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

When a lad, young Colt was placed at a school in Amherst, Massachusetts^ 
from whence, moved by a spirit of adventure, he ran away to Boston, and 
embarked as a boy before the mast on the ship Corlis, for Calcutta. lie re- 
turned buoyant in spirits, and as much determined to make his own way in 
the world as ever. By a short apprenticeship in the manufactory of his 
father, particularly in the department of dyeing and bleaching, he became 
familiarly acquainted with the leading principles of chemistry which ho 
soon turned to account, for when only seventeen fvr eighteen years of age 
he traveled throughout the length and breadth of the United States, and 
the Canadas " under the assumed name of Dr. Goult, burned more oxygen, 
and administered more laughing gas, to more men, women and children, than 
any other lecturer, we dare affirm, since chemistry was first known as a 
science. Without pretension, of course, at this period of his life — then a 
youth of but seventeen or eighteen years of age — to anything like profound- 
ness of scientific knowledge, he yet managed, by a ready use of such expe- 
riments as were dazzling and amusing, and by his dexterity as a manipulator, 
to win a favorable public opinion, and to secure, what was then of especial 
value to himself, a profit from his entertainments varying from five to fifty 
dollars a night, and occasionally reaching several hundreds of dollars in 
amount. 

All these profits — beyond those required for the supply of his daily wants — 
were sedulously devoted by the youthful adventurer to the prosecution of 
tliat great invention which has since extended his renowB throughout tho 
civilized world. For, most remarkably,, indeed, it was upon that voyage to 
which we have already alluded — which he made as a runaway sailor-boy to 
Calcutta — and while firing for amusement at porpoises and whales, off the 
Cape of Good Hope and in the Indian Seas, that he first conceived, and 
wrought out with a chisel on a spun-yarn, with a common jack-knife and a 
little iron rod, the rude model, in a piece of white pine, of that fire-arm 
which now, from the shores of the Pacific to the Japan Seas — over the whole 
extent of the civilized world — itself reports the triumph of his skill and 
blazes his fame.' 

With unwearied assiduitj-, and a confidence in an ultimately prosperous 
result which never wavered — though against the vaticinations and dissention 
of numerous relations and friends — he toiled and improved upon his pet 
model, until at last he engendered confidence enough in the bosoms of a 
few capitalists to procure the establishment, at Patterson, New Jersey, of a 
cwmiiany, with a capital of three hundred thousand dollars, for the ma'nu- 
ficture of his favorite arm. 

After having secured, in addition to a patent at home, patents also for his 
invention in England and in France — countries which he personally visited 
for the purpose — he returned to America to urge upon his own Government 
the adoption of his arm. But here at first he met with no success. Tho 
supreme authorities at Washington, and officers in the public service, both 
civil and militar}-, frowned upon his invention. He used the percussion 
«)p — a bad substitute, it was thought, for the old flint-lock. His arms weru 
more likely to get out of order than those of tho old-fashioned construction, 
and when broken could not so easily be repaired as common arms. These 
wore the main objections. But Colonel Colt, nothing daunted — for discout- 



OF AMEiilCANS. 151 

RgemeDt is no element in liis coinpositior. — met the objectors by careful ex- 
jil.inations, by numerous experiments, anil, vvliat is more, by mating constant 
improvements upon his invention. Tliero was no suggestion, of practical 
value, from boards of officers convened to examine and report upon his arm, 
or from other quarters, to which he did not give heed — no thought of his 
own in this connection which he did not test by experiment — the company 
of which ho was the soul, consuming for this purpose not less than three 
hundred thousand dollars — and the result was soon manifested in an arm so 
perfect in its construction as to rouse commendation wherever seen. Leading 
institutes and societies, within whose proper purview the arm came, and the 
journals of the country, to a great extent, vied with each other in its praise. 
'I'lie first premium of the American Institute, New York, and of the Me- 
chanics' Institute in the same city, was, at several fairs, bestowed upon its 
inventor. Both Colt's pistols and Colt's rifles were eulogized generally as 
splendid specimens of ingenuity and skill — as surpassing in beauty and cor- 
rectness of workmanship the best arms of European manufacture — as handled 
with tlie greatest facility and ease — as firing with astonishing precision — and 
as sending forth their successive messengers of death with marvelous celerity, 
force and effect. These justly merited commendations — and, what is of 
weightier importance still in this connection, the practical experience of mil- 
itary men, to. a large extent, of the value of these arms — upon the battle- 
fields of Texas, in the everglades of Florida, and amid the fastnesses and 
over the plains oj Mexico — finally commended their adoption by the Govern- 
ment of the United States. The testimony in their favor of such men as 
General Kusk and General Houston, of Commodore Moore, of the Texan 
Kavy, of Jack Hayes, Ben. McCulloch, and numerous other gallant officers 
of the far-famed Texan Rangers, and of that brave and excellent officer, 
particularly, Colonel Harney, the Murat of the American army, could not be 
resisted. "We use them with the greatest possible success," they all af- 
firmed. " They have far surpassed our expectations. We would not be 
without tlieui for the world !" 

Tliis last named ofQcer, Colonel Harney first became acquainted with their 
merits, in the war with the Seminoles of Florida. la the hands of his 
hardy mounted Rangers, they at once became the terror of the red men, 
and the war was soon brought to a close ; for when the Indians saw their 
foes fire six times without lowering their weapons to load they knew their 
former tactics were useless, and surrendered. 

From the period of thi.s adoption of his arm, the prosperity of Colonel 
Colt — ;is w;is his just meed after years of toil, of trial, of disappointment, 
but never of failure of hope, or abatement of industry — has run on in one 
h'mpid, sparkling, and unbroken stream. By contract demands for his arms 
from 'I'exas — which he fulfilled, with straitened means, at Whitneyville, 
Connecticut — by contract demands also from the United States — he was 
enabled to transfer his enterprise to Hartford, his own native town, upon the 
banks of the Connecticut, where he has at last succeeded in founding an 
armory, the most magnificent of its kind, it may be safel}' alleged, in the 
known world — an establishment, built in the first place b}- damming out — 
ft project deemed by many, in its inception, almost superhuman — the 
waters of the mighty Connecticut in their maddened freshet time — which 



152 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

incorporates, in buiUliiigs and machinery, a full million of dollar?, and 
gives employment to from six to eight hundred men inside the main build- 
ing, and to numerous hands outside — which dispenses daily, in wages alone, 
from one thousand to fifteen hundreil dollars; and manufactures, year by 
year, from seventy-five to one hundred thousand arms. 

The result is the fruit of a marliet for arms, not confined to the United 
States, but extending over both the Americas — more or less to the Indias, 
East and AVest — to Egypt — even to distant Australia — to remote Asiatic 
tribes assembled at the great Fairs of Novgorood, and over Europe generally, 
but especially to England. Here the arms of Colonel Colt, first introduced 
in splendid style through the World's Fair, were warmly welcomed, and led 
to the speedy establishment in London of an extensive armory for their 
manufacture, and to tlnir r.,pid adoption into the British army and naval 
service. 

"In whatever aspect the different observers viewed the American repeat- . 
ers," says an account of the impression they made at the Crystal Palace, 
" all agreed that perfection had been reached in the art of destruction. None 
were more astonished than the English, to find themselves so far surpassed 
in an art which they had studied and practiced for centuries, by a nation 
whose existence was within the memory of man, and whose greatest triumphs 
had been in the paths of peaceful industry. Lord Wellington was found 
'often in the American department, pointing out the great advantage of these 
repeaters to other officers and his friends, and the diflerentvscientific as well 
a-s popular journals of the country united in one common tribute of praise 
to the ingenuity and genius of Colonel Col£. The Institute of Civil En- 
gineers, one of the most highly scientific and practical Boards of its kind in 
the world, invited Colonel Colt to read a paper before its members upon the 
subject of these arms, and two of its meetings were occupied in hearing 
him, and in discussing the merits of his invention." He was the first 
American inventor who was ever thus complimented by this celebrated In- 
stitute, and he received at its hands, for his highly able and interesting 
paper, the award of a gold luedal and a life membership. 

In addition to his presence before the Institute, Colonel Colt — in high 
compliment to his experience and skill, appeared, also, upon special invita- 
tion, before a Select Committee on Small Arms of the British Parliament — 
and there gave testimony which was gladly received, and deemed of supe- 
rior i)ractical value. His own statements were amply corroborated at the 
time, before the same committee, by British officers, and others, who had 
visited his armory in America, and especially by J. Nasmith, the inventor 
of the celebrated steam hammer — who, in reply to the inquiry what effect 
his vi,sit to Colt's manufactory had upon his mind, answered — "It produced 
a very impressive effect, such as I shall never forget. The first impression 
was to humble me very considerably. I was in a manner introduced to such 
a skillful extension of what I knew to be correct principles, but extended 
in so masterly and wholesale a manner, as made me feel that we were very 
far behind in carrying out what we know to be good principles. What 
struck me at Colonel Colt's was, that the acquaintance with correct princi- 
ples had been carried out in a bold, ingenious way, and they had beoD 



OF AMERICANS. 153 

pushed to their full extent; and the result Wiis the attair.m;/i,i of perfection 
and eco.iomy such jis I had never met with before." 

All tests and examinations to which the repeating arms were subjected in 
England were highly in their favor. Emphatically they spoke for them- 
selves. The enormous power, na}', the invincibility of British troops armed 
with them, was demonstrated. "The revolver manufactured by Colonel 
Colt," s.aid the Dover Telegraph, a public journal, e.Kpressing the best and 
almost universal opinion of England upon the arm, "is a weapon that can- 
not be improved upon. It will, we unhesitatingly predict, prove a pianacea 
for the ills we have so unhappily encountered in the Southern hemisphere. 
The Caffre hordes will bitterly 'rue the daj" on which the first terrific dis- 
charge is poured upon their sable masses.' " And so — a panacea — the re- 
volver did prove, both with the Cafl're hordes, and with the Scandinavian, 
upon the bloodj- plains of the Crimea. The marvelous extension of its use 
within a few years, in Europe, and over parts of Asia — the establishment by 
the British Government of an armory of its own, at Enfield, for its manu- 
lure — the establishment of another by the Russian Government at Tula for 
the same manufacture — the call upon Colonel Colt, aided in part by some 
other American establishments, to provide all the important machinery for 
these new armories — these facts, and hosts of testimonials from all parts of 
the world, and from the highest scmrces, attest the unrivaled excellence of 
the repeating arms of Colonel Colt, and rank him among the most remark- 
able inventors of the world. 

But it is not only in the department of arms that Colonel Colt's mechan- 
ical genius has displayed itself. He also invented an apparatus for blowing 
up vessels:, and for coast and harbor defense, which, in his own hands sig- 
nally successful, and for a time experimented upon under the patronage and 
at the expense of the American General Government, will yet, we cannot 
but believe, be adopted as a system, and, to a great extent, take the place 
of forts and bastions, and Paixhan guns, for maritime defense.' Aside from 
this, to him, belongs the rare honor, of first succeeding in transmitting tele- 
graphic communications under water, by an insulated wire, as spoken of 
more fully in the preceding sketch of Professor Morse. 

CYEUS H. M'COBUICK, THE INVENTOR OF THE KEAPING MACHINE. 

Inventive talent, as applied to the first great want of man, the produc- 
tion of food, is as yet in its early infancy. In no department of human in- 
dustry are the triumphs of inventors to be more signallj- displayed than in 
this ; and although the decree that man In- the sweat of his brow shall earn 
his bread, will never be removed ; yet the benefits which he is to derive 
through the aid of machinery, in the planting, tilling, and gathering of his 
crops, and in the application of science to the processes of agriculture, are tc 
effect a revolution of the magnitude of which we can now have no concej)- 
tion. The day is fast waning in wdiich the liucccss of the farmer is con- 
sidered as guaranteed simply by the exercise of plodding industry. Agri- 
culture is rapidly taking its true position as the noblest of all vocations, 
requiring for its successful prosecution the highest faculties of the intellect, 
and yielding, too, the best of all reward.s, vigorous health, independence, 
and the absence of those temptations which are the curse of the competi- 



15-1 ADVENTURES AND ACillEVEMEXTS 

live avocations of a city life. All honor, then, to tlioso laborers in soicuco 
and invention, who are doing so much to elevate the condition of the agri- 
culturist, and to cause the earth to yield more abundantly the riches of 
nature, for the sustenance and comfort of man. 

Among the inventionsof,our countrymen, in aid tff agriculture, the reaper 
of Cyrus II. M'Cormick stands at the head of the list, as a labor-saving 
machine, and as having brought honor to the American name, by the inge- 
nuity displayed in its construction. The inventor is a Virginian by birth — 
a native of the county of Rockbridge, which is in the heart of the State, 
.ind in that part known as the Valley of Virginia, long famous for the gen- 
erous crojM which bless the labors of the husbandman. He commenced 
his career as an inventor about the year 1830, his mind having been given 
that bent at an early age by his father, Robert M'Cormick, a highly respect- 
able farmer, of excellent mechanical genius, who had himself patented 
several machines, and experimented upon a reaping machine as early as 
1816, and again in 1831. The trial of this machine of the elder M'Cor- 
mick in 1831, which was measurably successful in strait, untangled grain, 
satisfied him that it would not answer any valuable purpose for ordinary 
harvest operations, and he accordingly abandoned it. 

Ills son Cyrus, however, had even then been employing his mind upon 
the subject; for during this same harvest, he had actually succeeded in in- 
venting and putting in operation a machine containing most of the leading 
features in his present reaper, but wholly difi'crent from the plan of that in- 
vented by the elder M'Cormick. It operated quite well in cutting a por- 
tion of a late crop of oats on the farm of Mr. John Steele, which adjoined 
that of his father. The circumstances of this trial, and a description of the 
machine, were published in the spring of 1834, in the Mechanic's Magazine, 
of E. K. Minor, of New York. 

Aside from this, Mr. M'Cormick was at that period occupied with the 
invention of two plows, one of which, called a "hill-side plow," was 
patented in June, 1831, and the other, designated as a "self-sharpening, hori- 
zontal plow," was patented in November, 1833. These were both designed 
for horizontal plowing, and were ingeniousl}' arranged ; and the last named, 
is said to be the most simple and effective of its kind. It has not been ex- 
tensively introduced, for the reason that the reaper became of so much 
greater importance, as to consume the time and attention of the inventor, to 
the neglect of the other ; and on the expiration of the patent, he failed in 
obtaining a renewal by congress. Mr. M'Cormick's first patent for his reaper, 
was obtained in June, 1834. Several years elapsed before he had it suffi- 
ciently perfected to be fully satisfied t<i offer it to the public extensivelj- upon 
his own rcvponsihili/ij, which he deemed the proper way to introduce it. This 
lapse of time was owing to the very limited period given in each year — the 
harvest season — for experimenting upon it, and making the improvements 
which experience suggested. 

In the year 1841, he first advertised his reaper in the public prints of 
Virginia, on a full guarantee of its performance. In this original advertise- 
ment, he says that, "Having satisfied himself that, after several years of 
labor and attention in improving and comjileting his invention, he had 
triumphantly succeeded in effecting his object with as much perfection as 



OF AMERICANS. 155 

llie principle ailiiiits of, or is now desirable ; performing all that would bo 
expected, viz : the cutting of all kinds of small grain, in almost all the 
various situations in which it may be found, whether on level or mode- 
rately-hilly lands, whether long or short, heaVy or light, straight, tangled, 
or leaning, in the best possible manner, by a machine operated by horse- 
power, with little friction or strain upon any of its parts, and without com- 
plication, and, therefore not subject to get out of order, but stiong and 
durable — that operates with great saving of labor and (jrain." 

Soon after the advertisement of Mr. M'Cormick, ar.d sulisequent to the 
harvest of 1842, numerous testimonials, to the great value of the invention, 
were published in the papers of the State. One of these, from Mr. W. M. 
Peyton, an eminent agriculturist, we insert for its full description of its 
advantages as a labor-saving macliine. 

"I have tested it satisfactorily in every grade and condition of wheat : in 
that which was very light, as well as that which would have yielded, but 
for the rust, from thirty to forty bushels per acre ; in that which was erect, 
and in that which was tangled and- fallen, and found it to operate in every 
instance with surprising neatness and cflieiency — scarcely leaving a head, 
and but slightly influenced in the number of acres cut in a given time, by 
the condition of the grain. It was found to cut tangled and fallen grain, 
wherever it was not too flat to be reached by the sickle, .is well as that 
which was standing. The neatness and comj^leteness with which the crop 
is saved, is scarcely conceivable to one who has not witnessed its work. 
Those most wedded to the cradle, admit that the reaper will save, on an 
average, at least one more bushel to the acre in standing wheat than Ihe 
best cradling, wliile in tangled grain the saving would be augmented double, 
treble, or even quadruple that amount. So th.it the machine, which costs 
only a hundred dollars, will pay for itself in cutting an ordinary crop. 

"The machine, too, is simple and substantial ; of course, not liable to get 
out of order ; and when, from casualty, deranged or broken, easily rectified or 
repaired by an ordinary mechanic. It will cut with facility fifteen acres 
per day ; and when pushed, at least twenty. Two hands attend it witli 
ease, as rider and raker, relieving each other regularly, and five or six will 
bind the grain with more ease, than they would bind the same quantity of 
grain after cradlers and rakers, as the machine leaves it strait, and in piles 
large enough for several sheaves. It is fully equal to five choice cradlers, 
who would require five r.akers and five binders to follow them, makiii" 
fifteen in all. Thus you see there is a saving of the lahor of eiylit hands in 
every d.ay's cutting of the reaper. It performs equally well on rolling and 
undiilating .as on level land, and by taking steep hills obliquely, so as to 
gradu.ate the a.scent, the diCSculty with them will in a great de"ree be 
obviated." 

Another prominent Virginia farmer. General Corbin Braxton, also testified: 
".It has been worked this harvest under almost every di.sad vantage which it 
was possible to bring to bear ag.ainst it, in consequence of the unprecedented 
weather we have had. It v.-ill cut any wheat that is not too low for the reel 
and teeth to reach it. It does not appear to mo to be as liable to get out of 
order as a common cradle, and I should think it would be very duriible. 
The reaper has cut all descriptions of wheat : green, ripe, rusted as badly as 



156 ADVEXTUUES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

wheat could have it, lying ami standing; and I think that every farmer 
cutting fifty acres of wheat would find it to his advantage to have one. Ko 
weather has prevented the reaper from working, except when the ground 
was so soft as to mire the wheels." 

From this time the reaper went into public use, gaining favor regularly as 
it became more widely known, until the year 1845, when a second patent 
was granted for improvements in the cutting apparatus, and in the method 
of dividing and separating the grain to be cut, from that to be left on the 
field for the next swath. In 1847, Mr. M'Cormiok obtained a third patent, 
for the improvement of so arranging his machine as to be able to carry tho 
man upon it, whose duty it was to discharge the cut grain from the plat- 
form of the machine on the ground, out of the track of the horses, in 
passing the next time. 

With these patented improvement.^, together with such others as sug- 
gested themselves from year to year in jjerfecting the details, " M'Cor 
mick's Ecaper" has been steadily winning its way into favor, and holdiiig 
its position of superiority over all others. Its first trial with a competitor, 
was with Hussey's Reaper, at Richmond, Virginia, in the harvest of 1843, 
when there was no other machine of the kind known in the world. It was 
a signal triumph for M'Cormick's Reaper. But the event which more than 
anything else served to give it a wide rejuitation, was the honor it won at 
the "World's Fair," in Loudon, in 1851. When first seen at the exhibition 
of the Crystal Palace, it was the great butt of ridicule of the English press. 
The London Times sneered at it as a curious affair, resembling "a cross 
between an Astley chariot, a tread-mill, and a flying-machine." When tho 
English people had an opportunity of witnessing its working j.)Owers in a 
field of grain, their sneers were changed to cheers, and there appeared 
almost no bounds to the enthusiasm with which they alluded to it. The 
London Times said it was the most valuable article on exhibition from any 
country, and was of sufficient value to compensate for the whole expense of 
the World's Fair. In fact its triumph was the first and most important 
event of the exhibition in retrieving tho reputation of our country, from the 
ridicule which the meagerness of our contributions had called forth, com- 
pared with the rich, elegant, and large display of fine goods and gew-gaws 
of other countries. Its success on this occasion resulted in the award to Mr. 
M'Cormick of " The Great Council Medal," which was the highest class 
premium granted, and which was given to no other single agricultural im- 
plement at the exhibition. 

No le.'is signal was the triumph of M'Cormick's Reaper at the Great In- 
dustrial Exhibition of all Nations, at Paris, in 1855. It was there brought 
in competition with the American machines of Hussey and Manny — that of 
Bell's, of Scotland, with one or two others of French production. To it, 
then, as a combiued reaper and mower, upon tho most thorough test of its 
powers made in the field, in cutting wheat, oats, and grass, was awarded the 
only "Grand Medal of Honor" given to any single agricultural implement 
on exhibition. The Hon. Wm. Elliott, Commissioner of the State of South 
Carolina, who was present, in his report to the governor of that State, says: 
" I had the pleasure of witnessing the trial of Jl'Cormick's macliine, and 
second triumph in the field of Trappes, where model implements, selected 



OF AMERICANS. 157 

from France and England, were brought in competition with it only to tost 
its superiority. Its success was so distinguished as to disarm envy, and 
bring down generous cheers from the vanquished parties.'" The "La 
Presse," the most extensively circulated newspaper in Prance, on this occa- 
sion devoted no less than four columns to a minute historical sketch and 
description of the machine, in connection with an account of the extraor 
dinary results of these trials. 

At tbe Paris exhibitions of 1S56-7, the first premiums were awarded to 
M'Cormick's Reaper ; and to the same was awarded the first premium of 
the United States Agricultural Society, in July, 1857, at a trial at Syracuse 
of about twenty of the most prominent reapers of the United States. 

The rapidity with which the farmer can, by this machine, cut his grain, 
when in the proper state, has greatly stimulated production in our country. 
For grass-cutting it operates with equal advantage, proportional to the 
amount of that crop. M'Cormick's Reaper may be said to be to the great 
West, what Whitney's cotton gin is to the South — a machine of incalculable 
advantages in developing the resources of the country. In the broad 
prairies of the West it has full scope for its triumphs ; some four thousand 
of them being annually manufactured at Chicago, mainly for the use of 
the Western farmers. 

ISAAC M. SINGEK, AND THE SEWING MACniNE. 

The SEWING MACHINE does great honor to the inventive genius of our 
countrymen. This machine is not, however, the result of the ingenuity 
of one mind, but appears to have been brought to its present state of 
usefulness by the successive inventions of man}' individuals, which, 
when properly combined has resulted in an invention, whose pecuniary 
benefits cannot be measured by millions, and wdiich in the emanci- 
pation of the wives, mothers, and daughters of the land from a most 
unhealthy kind of labor, is destined to prove one of the greatest of human 
blessings. 

The magnitude of this invention, can hardly be appreciated. It is esti- 
mated that in civilized countries more than one half of the adult jjortion of 
the human race are almost wholly employed in the use of the needle, and 
much of this sewing is of a kind which rapidly wears upon the system, pro- 
ducing premature disease and death. The sewing machine was precisely 
the invention most needed by the world. 

The first sewing machine of which there is any account was of French 
invention, and was a tambour machine of simple contrivance, which was 
used for the purpose of ornamenting the backs of gloves, and marking 
cloths. It operated with one needle and a single thread, makin" what is 
commonly called the single chain stitch. This machine was not adapted to 
general purposes, the seam sewed by it could readily be raveled out, and 
therefore it never was much used. 

The next machine or machines for sewing, for there were two or more of 
them, differing in form and arrangement, but alike in their essential princi- 
ples of operation, were invented, constructed, exhibited, and sold by Walter 
Hunt, of the City of New- York, in the years 1834 and 1835. 

The next sewing machine in order, and the first upon which a patent waa 



158 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

obtained in the United States, was invented bj John J. Greenough, Esq. 
His patent bears date February 1, 184:2. Mr. Greeuough's macliine was 
made to sew with two threads, both of which were entirely passed through 
the cloth at every stitch ; a mode of operation which in actual practice pre- 
sents difficulties. 

GEonoE R. Corliss, of Greenwich, N. Y., was the inventor and patentee of 
the nest sewing machine, his patent bearing date December 27, 18i3. This 
was also a machine which sewed with two threads in a manner somewhat 
similar to that of Mr. Greenough, and was subject to the like objections. 

On the 10th of September, 1846, letters patent were granted to Elias 
Howe, Jr., a machinist of Cambridge, Massachusetts. This machine had 
been invented the year previous. The prominent feature of this invention, 
was the combination of the needle and shuttle. In 1849, Lerow and Blodget 
obtained a patent on what is called the Rotary Sewing Machine. Owing to 
the defects of those various machines, they failed to come into general use, 
and the public became so repeatedly disappointed and deceived, that they 
were prepared to regard any man as an impostor who should speak of offer- 
ing a sewing machine, no matter how perfect it should be. But intellect 
was at work, overcoming the defects of these previous attempts, until at 
last Isaac M. Singer, a native of Pittstown, Eensellaer County, New York, 
invented a machine, whicli was so superior to all its pjredecessors as to 
convince the 2nd>lic of the practicability of the sewing machine, for general 
use : and this was just what Fulton did for the steamboat. 

In October, 1851, lie exhibited his machine at the Fair of the American 
Institute, and was awarded a premium of the first class — a gold medal. 
Similar testimonials have been awarded to this invention at seven fairs in 
the various States. It has rarely happened that any great invention, under 
the most favorable circumstances, has made an equal progress with this, 
in so short a time. The machines are in most profitable use in all parts 
nf the country, and the world, and for a great variety of purposes. They 
are capable of stitching the finest linen or heavy leather, and any kind 
or quality of materials between these extremes, and the work is strong and 
exceedingly beantiful. The Straight Needle Sewing Machine, has estab- 
lished its i-eputalion as one of the most important labor-saving instruments 
ever devised. 

Since the first patent granted to I. M. Singer, for the sewing machine, on 
the 12th day of August, 1851, seventeen other distinct iiatenls have been 
issued to him in the United States, upon the same subject. The same im- 
provements have also been patented in several foreign countries. 

Mr. Singer has, therefore, "the exclusive right to numerous mechanical 
devices, without the use of which no sewing machine can be made to ope- 
rate to advantage ;" and, where used by others, it is either by a contract with 
him or by an infringement of his legal rights. 

Scarcely any invention is ever made without an infringement on the 
rights of the inventor. Persons unacquainted with patents are apt to sup- 
pose that if a man has a patent upon a device in a machine, he must there- 
fore have the right to make and sell such machine. This is a great mistake. 
There are at this moment between one hundred and a hundred and fifty 
patents in this country on the sewing machine. Those patents are, for the 



OF AMKRICAXS. 153 

most part, for minor improvements of little iiractical imporlance, and the 
law is that no patentee of an improvement on a machine can use anything 
secured by a previous patent without the consent of the prior inventor. 
Hence it follows that it is now utterlj' impossible to make a sewing machine 
of any kind of any practical utility without directly' infringing several sub- 
sisting patents, the validity of which cannot be questioned. 

In the year 1855, Singer's sewing machine, received the prize, in the 
French National Exhibition, in Paris. These machines are now used by the 
French government, for the manufacture of the clothes of the French army 
and navy. A manufactory has been established in Paris, and the right to 
use his patents in France sold for 100,000 dollars. On the 6th of February, 
1819, a patent was granted to Charles Morey and Joseph B. Johnson, of 
Massachusetts, upon a machine which made a seam with a single thread by 
means of a needle and a hook, acting in combination ; and for certain pur- 
poses, it is a very valuable invention. 

Beside these are a large number of inventions, mostly worthless, or only 
very limited in the uses to which they can be applied. The four pron>- 
inent sewing machines before the country, which can be used for a variety 
of purposes, are SiNaER's, Wheeler and Wilson's, Groveu and Bakeu'.s, 
Hunt, Webster & Go's. These four machines, beside being covered by 
various patents peculiar to each, arc indebted to the prior invention of 
Howe for the needle used. For the right to use his patent needle, the four 
pay Mr. Howe more than $100,000 per annum. 

The sewing machine has already been introduced to such an extent that 
some calculation may be made of its effect as a social element. It was pre- 
dicted that its use would bear with peculiar hardship upon the sewing girl, 
whose oppressed condition has long excited the sympathies of the philan- 
thropic ; but it is evident this has not been the result, and the strong preju- 
dice which for several years resisted the introduction of the sewing machine, 
has been gradually overcome. The following incident, which occurred about 
four years ago, is related by Singer, and shows the nature of the resistance 
then experienced : " We were sitting in our office one pleasant afternoon, 
when a tall lady dressed in black entered, and with rapid step advanced to 
the sewing machine on exhibition. 'Are you,' she asked, 'the inventor 
of this machine ? ' I am,' was the reply. ' Then,' she rejoined, with a 
fierce expression, 'you ought to be hung!' Having delivered herself of 
this opinion, she abruptly left the office." 

It was not anticipated that the price of hand labor would advance, as the 
machines were brought into operation. Yet such is the fact. It is undenia- 
bly true, that the wages of hand labor in the principal branches of industry 
in which sowing machines are most employed, has advanced nearl}' or quite 
fifty per cent., within the last four years. With all the aid to bo derived 
from the machines, many manufacturers End it difficult to procure their 
work to be done. The truth is that the quantity of work increases with the 
capacity to perform it, and, consequently, the mechanic will never be unem- 
ployed because of the introduction of machinery, while in common with 
the whole community, he will be directly benefited by the cheapening o5 
articles of necessity and luxury which he may wish to buy. 



100 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

The sewing machine also stirmihxtes various other branches of manufac- 
ture. Among those in connection with it worthy of notice, is the great im- 
jiroveraent which has taken place in the quality of sewing silk, twist, thread, 
etc., made necessary by the rapid and accurate movement cf the sewing 
machine. AVe now produce thread in this countr}', which far exceeds any 
of foreign importation, in strength and evenness of texture. If the foreign 
and domestic are looped together and jerked asunder, the former, even of 
the best descriptions, has been found to yield in the greatest number of in- 
stances. Several thread factories have been established to meet the increased 
demand. 

We conclude this subject by quoting a few paragraphs from the pen of 
an intelligent writer upon the .Viewing machine, in its social and sanitary 
aspect."*. 

"We have from examination a most thorough conviction of the advan- 
tages of sewing machines for family rise, and for sewing generally in all its 
varieties. They sew every kind of material, working equally well upon 
silk, linen, woollen, and cotton goods ; seaming, quilting, gathering, hem- 
ming, etc., with a strength and beauty superior to any hand work. They 
are elegant in model and finish, simple and thorough in construction, quiet 
and rapid in operation ; easily managed ; and make a firm and durable seam 
equally beautiful upon each side, with great economy of thread. The speed 
averages about iweh>e hundred slifches per mhiute, though it may be run at 
double this. In manufacturing skirts where about ten stitches to the inch 
are made, one thousand yards of straight sewing is an average day's work of 
ten hours. It is sometimes run «.5 Mt/h as one hundred and Jifti/ yards per 
hour. Fifty dozens of shirt collars, or sis dozens of shirt bosoms are a day's 
work. They are estimated to do the work of twelve seamstresses. The wages 
of a good operator at family sewing, are, we believe, two dollars per day. 
They have done much to elevate and extend the sphere of female industry. 
The uses of the needle have been multiplied. Processes now executed by 
machines have been heretofore performed by various implements. Tho 
cheapening of manufactures has so much increased their consumption, that 
not only are the interests of humanity subserved, but avenues of emploj'- 
ment have been opened to female industry heretofore occupied by men. It 
is, however, rather from a professional and sanitary point of view that we 
purpose to consider them particularly. 

The physical evils resulting from the use of the needle are of modern 
date ; the few and simple robes of ancestral times, taxed but slightly the 
wives and daughters of those days. It is in this period of increased manu- 
facture of fabrics, that the burden has fallen so heavily upon woman : and 
resulted in such frightful consequences to health, virtue and happiness. We 
are inclined to analyze these phenomena rather than dismiss them with vague 
expressions. 

The attitude in hand sewing is unhealthful. There is always more or less 
stooping of the head and shoulders, tending to retard circulation, respiration, 
digestion, and produce curvature of the spine. The erect position is tho 
healthy one. The head should be raised and the shoulders thrown back to 
give the lungs full play. The frequent long drawn breath of the seamstress, 



OF AMEPaCANS. 161 

evinces the cramping and confinement of the lungs. Ileallh cannot be ex- 
pected without free respiration. The life-giving element is in the atmo- 
bphero, and without it in due abundance disease must supervene. 

Again, the stillness required for hand sewing is destructive to health. 
The hands and arms alone move ; the body and lower limbs are motionless, 
which tend to jiaralj'sis. Confinement in the stocks would be hardly more 
barbarous. Strength and robustness must come from exercise. This con- 
fined attitude is in violation of correct theories of healthy physical develop- 
ment — the instincts of nature. Those accustomed to sit writing for hours, 
day after day, can form some idea of the exhausting nature of this work. 

The minute attention required, and the strain upon the eyes, are not the 
least evils resulting from hand sewing. Attention cannot be intermitted and 
have the work go on. The eye must be fixed, in order to measure the stitch. 
The fineness of the needle and thread, the various colored fabrics, and the 
precision that good work requires, tax the e3'esight more than any other 
business. We must reflect, too, that this labor is demanded under most 
unfavorable circumstances : dim lights, dark and close rooms — day and 
night for years. Nothing could be better devised for ruining health. What 
wonder that needle women are pale, nervous, and careworn, or that our 
women generally look old at an early age ! 

The operation of hand sewing injures the intellect, also, by affecting the 
health, and deranging the nerves ; while the work itself is of a most belittling 
character, requiring no mental exercise, and furnishing no food for thought. 
The head grows dizzy and the eyes swim over the monotonous task. Ex- 
ercise invigorates the mind as well as the body. As the flesh becomes 
flabb_v, and the circulation languid from inaction, so the mind tends to im- 
becility without invigorating exercise. If the mental and moral constitu- 
tion of the mother molds that of the child, what results must flow from a 
constant occupation that belittles the soul and benumbs the intellect ? Chil- 
dren, healthy in body and mind, cannot be born of mothers whoseconstitu- 
tions have been , undermined by employment so unhealthy. Physiological 
lectures and treatises are valueless if their teachings are thus systematically 
ignored. 

It is not the seamstress alone that suffers ; — the wives and mothers bear 
quite as wearying burdens. She who should bo the light and life of the 
household, whose loving heart and cheerful voice and countenance should 
inspire gladness, is a drudge, a slave to the wardrobe, exhausting her ener- 
gies upon an endless task to the neglect of accomplishments, the culture of 
her children, and most of the charities and amenities of life. What but 
the most ardent attachment can blind any young woman to court such a 
destiny ? These evils may have been heretofore unavoidable, but the ne- 
cessity exists no longer. That the sewing machine is calculated to furnish 
full and permanent relief to the evils above specified, we most firmly be- 
lieve. The attitude of the operator is erect and graceful ; the movement 
of the lower limbs in giving it motion, is invigorating; its mechanism, and 
rapid, precise, and beaiitifnl operations excite mental energy, while the 
week-long work of the wardrobe is reduced to a few hours. It is indispen- 
sable in a well-regulated family ; and parents should regard the outfit of a 



162 ADVKNTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

daughter incomplete without one. The piano, which she will have no timo 
to use, is of secondary importance to an invention that will relieve her of 
so many hours of wearyint; labor. The expense is not to be compared with 
the saving in time and the curtailment of medical expenses. 

Woman's agency in the movements of the day is too valuable to be dis- 
pensed with. — Her position, sensibilities, and virtuous inclinations mark her 
as pioneer in the moral, social and hygienic reforms. Now that mechanical 
genius has redeemed her time, relieved her from the drudgery of hand 
sewing, and rendered it a pleasing and healthful employment, we hope to 
see her more appropriately fulfilling her noble mission." 



KEMAKKABLE ADVENTURES 



ISRAEL 11. POTTEII, 

WHO WAS A SOLDIER IN THE AMERICAN KEVOI.UTION. AND TOOK A DISTINGUISHED 
PART IN THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, IN WHICH HE RECEIVED THREE WOUNDS; 
AFTER WHICH HE WAS TAKEN PRISONER BY THE BTITISH AND CONVEVED TO ENG- 
LAND. WHERE FOR THIRTY YEARS HE OBTAINED A LIVELIHOOD FOR HIMSELF AND 
FAMILY BY CRYING 'OLD CHAIRS TO MEND," THROUGH THE STREETS OF LONDON. 
HE DID NOT SUCCEED IN OBTAINING A PASSAGE TO HLS NATIVE COUNTRY UNTIL 
THE YEAR 1833, WHEN HE WAS IN THE SEVENTY-NINTH YEAR OF HIS AGE. AND 



A ITER 



AN ABSENCE OF FORTY-EIGHT YEARS. 



I w.\s born of rcput;ible p.irents in the town of Cranston, State of 
Rhode Ishind, August 1, 1744. I continued with ray p.irents there, in the 
full enjoyment of parental affection and indulgence, until I arrived at 
the age of eighteen, when, having formed an acquaintance with the 
daughter of a Mr. Richard Gardner, a near neighbor, fcr whom (in the 
apinion of my friends) entertaining too great a degree of partiality, I was 
reprimanded, and threatened by them with more severe punishment, if my 
vi.sits were not discontinued. Disappointed in my intentions of forming an 
union with one whom I really loved, I deemed the conduct of my parents 
in this respect unre;isonable and oppressive, and formed the determination 
to leave them, for the purpose of seeking another home and other friends. 

It was on Sunday, while the family were at meeting, that I packed up 
as many articles of my clothing as could be contained in a pocket-hand- 
kerchief, which, with a small quantity of provision, I conveyed to and 
secreted in a piece of woods in the rear of my father's house ; I then re- 
turned and continued in the house until about nine in the evening, when, 
with the pretense of retiring to bod, I passed into a back room, and from 
thence out of a back door, and hastened to the spot where I had deposited 
my clothes, etc. It was a warm summer's night, and that I might be ena- 
bled to travel with tlie more facility the succeeding day, I lay down at the 
foot of a tree and reposed myself until about four in the morning, when I 
arose and commenced my journey, traveling westward, with an intention of 
reaching, if possible, the new countries, which I had heard highly spoken 
of as affording excellent prospects for industrious and enterprising young 
men. To evade the pursuit of my friends, by whom I knew I should be 
early missed and diligently sought for, I confined my travel to the woods 
and shunned the public roads, until I had reached the distance of about 
twelve miles from my father's house. 

At iioDii Uie succeeding day I reached Hartford, in Connecticut, and ap- 
11 " . (103) 



164 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

plied to a farmer in that town fur work, and for whom I agreed to labor 
for one month for the sum of six dollars. Having completed my month's 
work to the satisfaction of my employer, I received my money and started 
from Hartford for Otter Creek; but, when I reached Springfield, I met with 
a man bound to the Cahos country, and who offered mo four dollars to 
accompany him, of which ofl'er I accepted ; and the next morning we left 
Springfield, and in a canoe ascended Connecticut River, and in about two 
weeks, after much hard labor in paddling and poleing the boat against tlie 
current, we reached Lebanon, New Uanipshire, the place of our destination. 
It w.is with some difficulty, and not until I had procured a writ by the 
Uiisistanoe of a respectable innkeeper in Lebanon by the name of Hill, that 
I obtained from my last employer the four dollars which he had agreed to 
pay me for my services. 

From Lebanon, I crossed the river to New Hartford (then New York), 
where I bargained with a Mr. Brink of that town for two hundred acres of 
new land, lying in New Hampshire, and for which I was to labor for him 
four months. As this may appear to some a small consideration fur so 
great a number of acres of land, it may be well here to acquaint the reader 
with the situation of the country in that quarter, at that early period of 
its settlement — which was an almost impenetrable wilderness, containing 
but few civilized inhabitants, far distantly situated from each other and from 
any considerable settlemerit ; and whoso temporary habitations with a few 
o.-iocptions were constructed of logs in their natural state — the woods 
abounded with wild beasts of almost every description peculiar to this 
country, nor were the few inhabitants at that time free from serious ap- 
prehension of being at some unguarded moment suddenly attacked and 
destroyed, or conveyed into captivity by the savages, who from the com- 
mencement of the French war, had improved every favorable opportunity 
to cut off the defenseless inhabitants of the frontier towns. 

After the expiration of my four mouths' labor, the person who had pro- 
mised me a deed of two hundred acres of land therefor, having refused to 
fulfill his engagements, I was obliged to engage witli a party of his majesty's 
surveyors at fifteen shillings per mouth, as an assistant chain-bearer, to sur- 
vey the wild unsettled lands bordering on the Connecticut River to its source. 
It was in the winter season, and the snow so deep that it was impossible to 
travel without snow-shoes. At the close of each day we eukindled a fire, 
cooked our victuals and erected with the branches of hemlock a temporary 
hut, which served us for shelter for the night. The surveyors having com- 
pleted tueir business returned to Lebanon, alter an aosence of about two 
months. Receiving my wages, I purchased a fowling-piece and ammunition 
therewith, and for the four succeeding months devoted my time in hunting 
deer, beavers, etc., in which I was very successful, as in the four months I 
obtained as many skins of these animals as produced me forty dollars. 
With my money I purchased of a Mr. John Marsh, one hundred acres of new 
land, lying on Water-Quechy River (so called), about five miles from Hart- 
ford, New York. On this land I wont immediately to work, erected a 
small log hut thereon, and in two summers, without any assistance, cleared 
up thirty acres fit for sowing. In the winter seasons 1 employed my time 
in hunting and entrapping such animals whose hides and furs were esteemed 



OF AMERICANS. 165 

of the most value. I reiiuiincd in possession of my laud two years, and then 
disposed of it to the same person of wliom I purchased it, at the advanced 
price of two hundred dollars, and then conveyed my skins and furs which I 
had collected the two preceding winters, to No. 4 (now Charlestown), 
where I exchanged them for Indian blankets, wampcag, and such other 
articles as I could conveniently convey on a hand-sled, and with which I 
started for Canada, to barter with the Indians for furs. This proved a very 
profitable trip, as I very soon disposed of every article at an advanco of 
mori than two hundred per cent., and received payment in furs at a re- 
duced price, and for which I received, in No. 4, two hundred dollars, casL 
With this money, together with what I was before in possession of, 1 now 
set out for home, once more to visit my parents after an absence of two 
years and nine months, in which time my friends had not been enabled to 
receive any correct information of me. On my arrival, so greatly affected 
were my parents at the presence of a son whom they had considered dead, 
that it was some time before either could become sufficiently composed to 
listen to or request mo to furnish them with an account of my travels. 

Soon after my return, as some atonement for the anxietj' which I had 
caused nn- parents, I presented tliem with most of the money that I had 
earned in my absence, and formed the determination that I would remain 
with them contented at liome, in consequence of a conclusion from the wel- 
come reception that I met with, that they had repented of their opposition, 
and had become reconciled to my intended union — but, in this, I soon found 
that I was mist.aken ; for, although overjoyed to see me alive, whom they 
liad supposed really dead, no sooner did they find that long absence had in- 
creased rather than diminished my attachment for their neighbor's daughter, 
than their resentment .and opposition appeared to increase in proportion — in 
consequence of which I formed the determination again to quit them, and 
try my fortune at sea, as I had now arrived at an age iti which I had an 
unquestionable right to think and act for myself. 

After remaining at home one month, I applied for and procured a berth 

at Providence, on board the sloop , Captain Fuller, bound for Grenada. 

After this voyage was finished, I made several other voyages, the last of 
which was of three years' duration, in a whaler to the South Seas. 

I returned from my last voyage perfectly sick of the sea, remained with 
niy friends at Cranston a few weeks, and then hired myself to a Mr. James 
Waterman, of Coventry, for twelve months, to work at farming. This was 
in the year 1774, and I continued with him about six months, when the diffi- 
culties which had for some time prevailed between the Americans and Brit- 
ish, had now arrived at that crisis as to render it certain that hostilities 
would soon commence in good earnest between the two nations ; in con- 
sequence of which, the Americans at this period began to prepare themselves 
for the event — companies were formed in several of the towns in Now Eng- 
land, who received the appellation of "miimte men," and who were to hold 
themselves in readiness to obey the first summons of tlieir officers, to march 
at a moment's notice. A company of this kind was I'urmed in Coventry, 
into which I enlisted. 

It was on a Sabbath morning that news was received of the destruction 
of the provincial stores at Concord, and of the massacre of our countrymen 



166 ADVENTUUES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

at Lexington, by a detached party of the British troops from Boston : and 
I itnmediatel}' thereupon received a summons from the captain, to bo pre- 
pared to march with the companj' early in the morning ensuing. By the 
break of day on Monday morning, I swung my luiapsacl<, shouldered my 
muslcet, and with the company commenced my march v.'ith a quick step 
for Charlestovvn, wliere we arrived before sunset, and remained encamped 
in the vicinity until about noon of the 16lh June ; when, having been pre- 
viously joined by the remainder of the regiment from Rhode Island, Ic 
which our company' was attached, we received orders to proceed and join a 
detaehment of about one thousand American troops, which had that morn- 
ing taken possession of Bunker Hill, and which we had orders immediately 
to fortify, in the best manner that circumstances would admit of. We 
labored all night without cessation and with very little refreshment, and by 
Uie dawn of day succeeded in throwing up a redoubt of eight or nine rods 
aquare. As soon as our works were discovered by the British in the 
•norning, they commenced a heavj- fire upon us, which was supported by a 
•brt on Copies Hill ; we, however (under the command of the intrepid 
"■^utnam), continued to labor like beavers until our breastwork was com- 
{,-leted. 

About noon, a number of the enemy's boats and barges, filled with ti'oops 
landed at Charlestown, and commenced a deliberate march to attack us. 
We were now harangued by General Putnam, who reminded us, that e.x- 
!oausted as we were, by our incessant labor through the preceding night, 
the most important part of our duty was yet to be performed, and that 
much would be expected from .so great a number cf excellent marksmen, 
he charged us to be cool, and to reserve our fire until the enemy ap- 
proached so near as to enable us to see the white of their eyes. When 
within about ten rods of our works, we gave them the contents of our 
muskets, which were aimed with such good effect, as soon to cause them 
to turn their backs and to retreat with a much quicker step than that 
with which they approached us. We were now again harangued by "old 
General Put," as he was termed, and requested by him to aim at the 
officers, should the enemy renew the attack — which they did in a few 
moments, vith a reinforcement. Their approach was with a slow step, 
which gave us an excellent opportunity to obey the commands of our gen- 
eral in bringing down their officers. I feel but little disposed to boast of 
my own performances on this occasion, and will only say, that after de- 
voting so many months in hunting the wild animals of the wilderness, 
while an inhabitant of New Hampshire, the reader will not suj^pose me a 
bad or inexperienced marksman, and that such were the fair shots which the 
epauletted red-coats presented in the .two attacks, that every shot which 
they received from me, I am confident on another occasion would have pro- 
duced me a deer-skin. 

So warm was the reception the enemy met with in theit second attack, 
that they again found it necessary to retreat; but soon after receiving a fresh 
reinforcement, a third assault was made, in which, in consequence of our 
ammunition failing, they too well succeeded. A close and bloody engage- 
ment now ensued— to fight our way through a very considerable body of the 
enemy, with clubbed muskets (for tliere were not one in twenty of us pro- 



OF AMERICANS. 167 

vi.lod with bayonets) were now the only moans left us to escape. The con- 
flict, which was a sharp and severe one, is still fresh in hiy memory, and 
civiinot be forgotten by me while the scars of the wounds which I then re- 
ceived, remain to remind me of it. Fprtnnately for me, at this critical 
moment I was armed with a cutlass, which although without an edge and 
much rust-oaten, I found of infinite more service to me than my musket. 
In one instance, I am certain, it w.as the means of saving my life — a blow 
■with a cutla.ss was aimed at my head by a British ofScer, which I parried 
and received oidy a slight cut with the point on my right arm near the 
elbow, which I was then unconscious of; but this slight wound cost my an- 
tagonist at the moment a much more serious one, which effectually dis- 
armed him, for with one well-directed stroke I deprived him of the power 
of very soon again measuring swords with a Yankee rebel ! We finally, 
however, should have been mostly cut off, and compelled to yield to a su- 
perior and better equipped force, had not a bodj- of three or four hundred 
Connecticut men formed a temporary breastworls, with rails, etc., and by 
this means held the enemy at bay until our main body had time to ascend 
the heights, and retreat across the neck. In this retreat I was less for- 
tunate than many of my comrades — I received two musket-ball wounds, 
one in my hip and the other near the ankle of my lel't leg. I succeeded, 
however, without any assistance in reaching Prospect Hill, where the main 
body of the Americans had made a stand and commenced fortifying. Prom 
thence I was soon after conveyed to the hospital in Cambridge, where my 
wounds wore dressed and the bullet extracted from my hip by one of the 
surgeons ; the house was nearly filled with the poor fellows who, like my- 
self, h.ad received wounds in the late engagement, and presented a mel- 
ancholy spectacle. 

I suffered much pain from the wound which I received in my ankle ; the 
bone was badly fractured and several pieces were extracted by the surgeon, 
and it was six weeks before I was sufficiently recovered to be able to join 
my regiment quartered on Prospect Hill, wliere they had tlirown up in- 
trenchments within the distance of little more than a mile of the enemy's 
camp, which was in full view, tliey having intrenched themselves on Bun- 
ker Hill after the engagement. 

On the 3d July, to the great satisfaction of the Americans, General Wash- 
ington arrived from the south to take command. I was then confined in 
the hospital, but as far as my observations could extend, ho met with a joy- 
ful reception, and his arrival was welcomed by every one throughout the 
camp. 

The British quartered in Boston began soon to suffer much from the 
scarcity of provisions, and General Washington took every precaution to 
prevent their gaining a supply. From the country all supplies could bo 
easily cut off, and to prevent their receiving any from tories and other dis- 
affected persons by water, the general found it necessary to equip two or 
three armed vessels to intercept them ; among these was the brigantino 
Washington of ten guns, commanded by Capt. Martindale. As seamen, at 
this time, could not easily bo obtained, most of them having enlisted in the 
land service, permission was given to any of the soldiers who should bo 
pleased to accept of the offer, to man these vessels— consequentl}- mysoll 



168 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

with several others of the same regiment went on board of the Washington, 
then lyinj; at Plymouth, and in complete order for a cruise. 

We set sail about the 8th December, and had been out but three days 
when we were captured by the enemy's ship Toy, of twenty guns, who look 
us all out and put a prize crew on board the Washington — the Foy pro- 
ceeded with lis immediately to Boston Bay, where we were put on board 
the British frigate Tartar, and orders given to convey us to England. 
When two or three days out, I projected a scheme (with the assistance 
of my fellow prisoners, seventy-two in number) to take the ship, in which 
we should undoubtedly have succeeded, as we had a number of rcsoluto 
fellows on board, had it not been for the treachery of a renegade Englishman, 
who betraj-ed us. As I was pointed out bj' the fellow as the principal in the 
plot, I was ordered in irons by iLc officers of the Tartar, iu which situation 
I remained until the arrival of the ship at Portsmouth, England, when 1 
Avas brought on deck and closely examined; but protesting my innocence, 
and what was very fortunate for me in the course of the examination, the 
person by whom I had been betrayed, having been proved a British de- 
serter, his story was discredited and I was relieved of my irons. 

The prisoners were now all thoroughly cleansed and conveyed to the ma- 
rine hospital on shore, where many of us took the small-pox the natural way 
from some whom we found in the hospital aiTected with that disease, which 
proved fatal to nearly one half our number. From the hospital those of us 
who survived were conveyed to Spithead, and put on board a guard-ship, 
where I had been confined with my fellow prisoners about, a month, when I 
was ordered into the boat, to assist the bargemen (in consequence of the 
absence of one of their gang) in rowing the lieutenant on shore. As soon 
as we re.ached the shore and the officer landed, it was proposed by some oi 
the boat's crew to resort for a few moments to an ale-house, in the vicinity, 
to treat themselves to a few pots of beer ; which being agreed to by all, 1 
thought this a favorable opportunity, and the only one that might present, 
to escape from my floating prison, and felt determined not to let it pass 
unimproved ; accordingly, as the boat's crew were about to enter the house 
I expressed a necessity of my separating from them a few moments, tf 
which they, not suspecting any design, readily assented. As soon as I saw 
them all snugly in and the door closed, I gave speed to my legs, and ran 
as I then concluded, about four miles without once halting. I steered m) 
course toward London, as when there by mingling with the crowd I thoughl 
it prob,\ble that I should be least suspected. 

When I had reached the distance of about ten miles from where I quit 
the bargemen, and beginning to think myself in little danger of apprehension 
should any of them be sent by the lieutenant in pursuit of me, as I was 
leisurely passing a public house, I was noticed and hailed by a naval officer 
at the door with " Ahoy, what ship ?" — " No ship," was my reply, or. 
which he ordered me to stop, but of which I took no other notice than to 
observe to him, that if he would attend to his own business I would proceed 
quietly .about mine. This rather increasing than diminishing his suspicions; 
that I was a deserter, garbed ,as I was, he gave chase. Finding myself 
closely pursued and unwilling agnin to be made a prisoner, if possible to 
escape, I had now once more to trust my legs, and should have succeeded 



OF AMERICAES. IGD 

had not the officer, on finding himself lilccly to bo distanced, set up a cry of 
".Stop thief!" which brought numbers out of their houses and workshop?, 
who, joining in the pursuit, succeeded after a chase of nearly a mile in 
overhauling me. 

By the oQlcor I was conveyed back to the inn, and left in custody of two 
soldiers — the former (previous to retiring) observing to the landlord, that 
believing me to be a true blooded Yankee, requested him to supply me at his 
expense with as much liquor as I should call for. The house was thronged 
early in the evening by manj' of the " good and faithful subjects of "King 
George," who had assembled to take a peep at the " Yankee rebel" (as 
they termed me), who had so recently taken an active part in the rebellious 
war, then raging in his majesty's American provinces. 

As for myself, I thought it best not to be reserved, but to reply readily to 
all their inquiries ; for while my mind was wholly employed in devising a 
plan to escape from the custody of my keepers, so far from maiiilesting a 
disposition to resent any of the insults offered me, or my country, to prevent 
any susp'cions of my designs, I feigned myself not a little pleased W'ith 
their observations and in no way dissatisfied with my situation. As the 
officer had left orders with the landlord to suppi}' me with as much liquor 
as I should be pleased to call for, I felt determined to make my keepers 
merry at his expense, if possible, as the best means that I could adopt to 
effect my escape. 

The evening having become now far spent and the company mostly 
retiring, my keepers (who, to use a sailor's phrase, I was happy to dis- 
cover " half se.as over") having much to my dissatisfaction furnished me 
with a pair of handoufl's, spread a blanket by the side of their bed on which 
1 was to repose for the night. I feigned myself very grateful to them for 
having humanely furnished me with so comfortable a bed, and on which I 
stretched myself with much apparent unconcern, and remained quiet about 
one hour, when I was sure that the family had all retired to bed. 

I then intimated to my keepers that I was under the necessity of re- 
questing permi-ssion to retire for a few moments to the back yard ; when 
both instantly arose and reeling toward me seized each an arm, and pro- 
ceeded to conduct me through a long and narrow entry to the back door, 
which was no sooner unbolted and opened by one of them, than I tripped 
up the heels of both and laid them sprawling, and in a moment was at the 
garden wall seeking a passage whereby I might gain the public road. A now 
and unexpected obstacle now jjresented, for I found the whole garden in- 
closed with a smooth brick wall, of the height of twelve feet at least, and 
was prevented by the darkness of the night from discovering an avenue 
leading therefrom. In this predicament, my only alternative was either U) 
scale this wall, handcuffed as I was, and without a tiioment's hesitation, or 
to suffer myself to be mwle a captive of again by my keepers, who had 
already recovered their feet and were bellowing like bullocks for assistance. 
Uad it not been a very dark night, I must certainly have been discovered 
and retaken by them. Fortunately, before they had succeeded in rallying, 
the family, in groping about I met with a fruit tree situated within ten or 
twelve feet of the wall which I ascended as expeditiously as possible, and 
oy an extraordinary leap from the br.uiehes reached the top of the wall, and 



170 ADVENTURES AND ACHIKVEMENTS 

was in an instant on the opposite side. The coast being now clear, I ran to 
the distance of two or three miles, with as much speed as my situation 
would admit of. My next object now was to rid myself of my haudcufi's, 
which fortunately proving none of the stoutest, I succeeded in doing after 
much painful labor. 

It was now, as I judged, about twelve o'clock, and I had succeeded in 
reaching a considerable distance from the inn, from which I had made my 
escape, without hearing or seeing anything of my keepers, whom I had left 
staggering about in the garden in search of their " Yankee captive !" It 
was indeed to their intoxicated state, and the extreme darkness of the night, 
that I imputed my success in evading their pursuit. I saw no one until 
abjut the break of day, when I met an old man tottering beneath the weight 
of his pick-ax, hoe and shovel, clad in tattered garments, and otherwise the 
picture of poverty and distress ; he had just left his humble dwelling, and 
was proceeding thus early to his daily labor ; — and as I was now satisfied 
that it would be very difScult for me to travel in the daytime, garbed as I 
was, in a sailor's habit, without exciting the suspicions of his royal ma- 
jesty's pimps, who (I had been informed) were constantly on the lookout 
for deserters, I applied to the old man, miserable as be appeared, for a 
change of clothing, offering those which I then wore for a suit of inferior 
quality and less value. . This I was induced to do at that moment, as I 
thought that the proposal could be made with perfect safety, for whatever 
might have been his suspicions as to my motives in wishing to exchange 
my dress, I doubted not that with an object of so much apparent distress, 
Bclf-iuterest would prevent bis communicating them. The old man however 
appeared a little surprised at my offer, and after a short examination of my 
pea-jacket, trow.sers, etc., expressed a doubt whether I would be willing to ex- 
change them for his "church suit," which he represented as something 
worse for wear, and not worth half so much as those I then wore. Taking 
courage however from my assurances that a change of dress was my only 
object, he deposited his tools by the side of a hedge, and invited me to ac- 
company him to his house, which we soon reached and entered, where a 
scene of poverty and wretchedness presented, which exceeded everything 
of the kind that I had ever before witnessed. There was but one room, in 
one corner of which was a bed of straw covered with a coarse sheet, and 
on which reposed his wife and five small children. The first garment pre- 
sented by the poor old man, of his best, or " church suit," as he termed it, 
was a coat of very coarse cloth, containing a number of patches of almost 
every color but that of the cloth of which it was originally made. The 
next was a waistcoat and pair of small clothes, wdiich appeared each to have 
reOfiv'"' " '>niiiiti('.>i ^iii.i.lv of patches to correspond with the coat. The 
co.i^ . ,_,,.v I'll will.. .,11, ..luc-n difficulty, but the two other garments proved 
much too small for me, and when I had succeeded with considerable difficulty 
in putting them on, they set so tight as to cause me some apprehension that 
they might even stop the circulation of blood ! My next exchange was my 
buff cap for an old rusty large-brimmed hat. 

The old man appeared very much pleased with his b.argain, and rep- 
resented to his wife that lie could now accompany her to church much more 
decently clad. He immediately tried on the pea-jacket and trowsers, and 



OF AMERICANS. 171 

seomed to give himself very little concern about their size, although I am 
cinifidcnt that one leg of the trowsers was sufficiently large to admit bis 
whole body — but, however ludicrous his aiipearance, in his new suit, I am 
sure that it could not have been more so than mine, garbed as I was, like 
an old man of seventy ! From my old fi'iend I learned the course that I 
must steer to reach London, the towns and villages that I should have to 
jiass through, and the distance thereto, which was between seventj' and 
eighty miles. He likewise represented to mo that the country was filled 
witli soldiers, who were on tlio constant lookout for deserters from the navy 
and army, for the apprehension of whom they received a stipulated reward. 

After enjoining it on the old man not to give any information of me, 
should he meet on the road any one wlio should inquire for .i^uch a j^erson, 
I look ray leave of him, and again sot out with a determination to reach 
Loudon, thus disguised, if possible. I traveled about thirty miles that 
day, and at night entered a barn in hope of finding some straw or hay ou 
which to repose for the niglit for I had not money sufficient to pay for a 
night's lodging at a public house, had I thought it prudent to ap|)ly for one. 

In my expectation to find either hay or straw in the barn, I was sadly 
disappointed, for I'soon found that it contained not a particle of either, and 
after groping about in the dark in search of something that might serve fur 
a substitute, I found nothing better than an undressed sheep-skin. With 
no other bed on which to repose my wearied limbs, I spent a sleepless 
night, cold, hungry and weary, and impatient for the arrival of the morning's 
dawn, that I might be enabled to pursue my journey. 

P.y break of day, I again set out and soon found myself within tlio 
suburbs of a considerable village, in passing which I was fearful there would 
be some risk of detection ; but to guard myself as much as possible against 
suspicion, I furnished myself with a crutcli and feigning myself a cripple, 
hobbled through the town without meeting with any interruption. In 
two hours afterward, I arrived in the vicinity of another still more conside- 
rable village, but fortunately for me, at the moment, I was overtaken by an 
empty baggage wagon, bound to London. Again feigning myself very 
lame, I begged of the driver to grant a poor cripple the indulgence to ride a 
few miles, to which he assenting, I concealed myself by lying prostrate on 
the bottom of the wagon, until we had passed quite through the village ; 
when, finding the wagoner disjwscd to drive much slower than I wished to 
travel, after thanking- him for the kind disposition which he had manifested 
to oblige me, I quit the wagon, threw away my crutch and. traveled with a 
speed, calculated to surprise the driver with so sudden a recovery of the use 
of my legs. The reader will perceive that I had now become almost an 
adept at deception, which I would not however have so frequently prac- 
ticed, h.ad not self-preservation demanded it. 

As I was passing through the town of Staines within a few miles of 
London, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, I was met by three or four 
British soldiers, whose notice I attracted, and wdio unfortunately for me, dis- 
covered by the collar, which 1 had not taken the precaution to conceal, that 
I wore a shirt which exactly corresponded with those uniformly worn by his 
majesty's seamen. Not being able to give satislactory account of myself, I 
I was made a prisoner, on susjiicion of being a ueserter from his majesty's 



172 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

scrviee, and was immcdiati;!}- committed to the round-house— a prison so 
called, appropriated to the confinement of runaways, and those convicted of 
small offenses. I was committed in the evening, and to secure me tlie moro 
effectually, I was handcuffed, and left supperless by my unfeeling jailer, to 
pass the night in wretchedness. 

My first object was to rid myself of my handcuffs, which I succeeded in 
doing after two hours' hard labor, by sawing them across the grating of the 
window. Having my hands now at liberty, the next thing to be done was 
to force the door of my apartment, which was secured on the outside by a 
hasp and padlock. I devised many schemes, but for want of tools to work 
witli, was unable to carry them into execution. I, however, at length suc- 
ceeded, with the assi.stance of no other instrument than the iiolt of my 
handcuffs, with which, thrusting my arm through a small window or aper- 
ture in the door, I forced the padlock ; and as there was now no other bar- 
rier to prevent my escape, after an imprisonment of about five hours, I was 
once more at large. 

It was now, as I judged, about midnight ; and although enfeebled and 
tormented with excessive hunger and fatigue — not having scarcely tasted 
food for four days — I set out with the determination of reaching London, if 
possible, earl}' the ensuing morning. By break of day, I reached and 
passed through Brintford, a town of considerable note and within six miles 
of the capital — but so great was my hunger at this moment, that I was 
under serious apprehension of falling a victim to absolute starvation, if not 
so fortunate soon as to obtain something to appease it. I recollected of 
having read in my youth accounts of the dreadful effects of hunger, which 
had led men to the commission of the most horrible excesses, but did not 
then think that fate would ever thereafter doom me to an almost similar 
situation. 

A laborer I met, near Brintford, informed mo that Sir John Millet, whose 
seat he represented but a short distance, was in the habit of employing 
many hands at that season of the year (which was in the spring of 177G), 
and he doubted not but that I might there meet with employment. With 
my spirits a little revived, at even a distant prospect of obtaining something 
to alleviate my sufferings, I started in quest of the seat of Sir John agreeably 
to the directions which I had received ; in attempting to reach which, I 
mistook my way, and proceeded up a graveled and beautifully-ornamented 
walk, which unconsciously led me directly to the garden of the Princess 
Amelia. I had approached within view of the royal mansion when a 
glimpse of a number of "red-coats," who thronged the yard, satisfied me of 
my mistake, and caused me to make an instantaneous and precipitate re- 
treat, being determined not to aflford any more of their mess an opportu- 
nity of boasting of the capture of a "Yankee rebel." Indeed a vi'olf or a 
bear of the American wilderness, could not be more terrified or panic-struck 
at the sight of a firebrand, than I then was at that of a British red-coat ! 

Having succeeded in making good my retreat from the garden of her 
highness, without being discovered, I took another path which led me to 
where a number of laborers were employed in shoveling gravel, and to whom 
I repeated my inquiry if they could inform me of any in want of help, etc. 
"Why, in troth, friend," a:;swered one in a dialect peculiar to the laboring 



OF AMERICANS. I73 

class of people of that part of the country, "mc master, Sir John, hires a 
goodly many, and as we've a deal of work now, ma^'-bc he'll hire you. 
'Spose he stop a little with us until work is done, he may then gang along, 
and we'll question Sir John, whither him bo wanting another like us or no !" 

I found Sir John walking in his front yard, in company with several 
gentlemen, and on being made acquainted with my business, his first inquiry 
was whether I had a hoe, or money to purchase one, and on being answered 
in the negative, he requested me to call early the ensuing morning, and he 
would endeavor to furnish me with one. 

It is impossible for nie to express the satisfaction that I felt at this pros- 
pect of a deliverance from my wretched situation. 1 was now by so long 
fasting reduced to such a state of weakness, that my legs were hardly abl<! 
to support mc, .and it was with extreme difiicully that I succeeded in reach- 
ing a baker's shop in tho neighborhood, where with my four rem.aiuing 
pennies, which I had reserved for a last resource, I purchased two two- 
penny loaves. 

After four days of iutoler.able hunger, the reader may judge how great 
must have been my joy, to find myself in i)OS3essiou of even a morsel to ap- 
pease it. Although five times the quantity of the "stall' of life" would 
have been insufficient to have, satisfied my appetite, yet, as 1 thought it im- 
probable that I should be indulged with a mouthful of anything to cat in 
tho morning, I concluded to eat then but one loaf, and to reserve the other 
for another meal ; but having eaten one, so far from satisfying, it scorned 
rather to increase my appetite for the other — the temptation was irresistible, 
the cravings of hunger predominated, and would not be satisfied until 1 had 
devoured tho remaining one. 

The day was now f;ir spent, and I was compelled to resort with ruluctaaco 
to a carriage house, to spend another night in misery. I ibund nothin" 
therein on which to repose my wearied limbs but the bare Hour, whicli was 
sufiicient to deprive me of sleep, however much exhausted nature required 
it. At eight o'clock precisely all hands were called, and preparations made 
for a comiiiencemont of the labors of the day. I was furnished with a Iar<'o 
iron fork and a hoe, and ordered by my employer to .accompany them, and 
although my strength at this moment was hardly sufficient to enable me to 
bear even so light a burden, yet I was unwilling to expose my weakness, so 
long as it could be avoided — but, the time had now arrived in which it waa 
impossible for me any longer to conceal it, and I had to confess the cause to 
my fellow laborers, so far as to declare to thorn, that such had been my stato 
of poverty, that, with the exception of the four small loaves of bread, I had 
imt tasted food for four days ! I was not, I must confess, displeased nor a 
little disappointed to witness the evident emotions of pity and commiseration, 
which this woeful declaration .appeared to excite in their minds. 

About eleven o'clock we were visited by our employer. Sir John, wlio, 
noticing me particularly, and perceiving the little progress I made in my 
labor, observed, that although I had the .appearance of being a stout hearty 
man, yet I either feigned myself or really was a very weak one. On which 
it was immediately observed by one of my friendly fellow laborers, that it 
was not surprisiu'^ that I lacked strength, .as I had eaten nothing of con- 
fcequence for four d.iys ! Mr. Millet, who appeared at first little disposed to 



17-i ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

credit tho fact, on being assured by me that it was really so, put a shilling 
into my hand, and bid me go immediately and purchase to that amount in 
bread and meat — a request which the reader may suppose I did not hesitate 
to comply with. 

Mv repast being over, one of the men was ordered by my hospitable 
friend to provide for me a comfortable bed in the barn, where I spent the 
night; on a couch of clean straw, more sweetly than ever I had done in 
the days of my better fortune. I arose early, much refreshed, and waa pre- 
paring after breakfast to accompany the laborers to their work, which was 
no sooner discovered by Sir John, than, smiling, he bid me return to my 
couch and there remain until I was in a better state to resume my labors. 
Indeed, the generous compassion and benevolence of this gentlemen was 
unbounded. 

After having on that day jiartook of an excellent dinner, which had been 
provided expressly for me, and the domestics having been ordered to retire, 
I was not a little surprised to hear myself thus addressed by him. " My 
honest friend, I perceive that you are a seafaring man, and your history 
probably is a secret which you may not wish to divulge ; but, whatever cir- 
cumstances may have attended you, you may make them known to me with 
the greatest safety, for I pledge my honor I will never betray you." 

Having experienced so many proofs of tho friendly disposition of Mr. 
Millet, I could not hesitate a moment to comply with his request, and 
without attempting to conceal a single fact, made him acquainted with every 
circumstance that had attended me since my first enlistment as a soldier. 
After expressing his regret that there should be any of his countrymen 
found so void of tho principles of humanity, as to treat thus an unfortunate 
prisoner of war, he assured me that so long as I remained in his employ he 
would guarantee my safety — adding, that notwithstanding (in consequence 
of the unhappy differences whiciii then prevailed between Great Britain and 
her American colonies) the inhabitants of the latter were denominated rebels, 
yet they were not without their friends in England, who wished well to 
their cause, and would cheerfully aid them whenever an opportunity should 
present. He represented the soldiers wdiom it had been reported to me 
were constantly on the lookout for deserters, as a set of mean and con- 
temptible wretches, little better than a lawless banditti, who, to obtain the 
fee awarded by government for the apprehension of a deserter, would betray 
their best friends. 

Having been generously supplied with a new suit of clothes and other 
necessaries by Mr. Millet, I contracted with him for six months, to super- 
intend his strawberry garden, in tlie course of which so far from being mo- 
lested, J was not suspected by even his own domestics of being an American. 
At the expiration of the six months, by the recommendation of my hos- 
pitable friend, I got a berth in the garden of the Princess Amelia, where, 
although among my fellow laborers the American rebellion was not uufre- 
quently the topic of their conversation, and the "d — d Yankee rebels," as 
they termed them, frequently the subjects of their vilest abuse, I was little 
suspected of being one of that class whom they were pleased thus to 
denominate. I must confess that it was not without some difficulty, that I 
was enabled to surpress indignant feelings. 



OF AMERICANS. ^75 

I remained in the employ of the princess about three montlis, and then, 
:u consequence of .1 misunderstanding with tlie overseer, I hired myself to a 
farmer in a small village adjoining Brintford, where I had not been threo 
weeks employed before rumor was afloat that I was a Yankee prisoner of 
war. From whence the report arose, or by what occasioned, I never could 
learn. It no sooner reached the ears of the soldiers, than they were on tho 
alert, seeking an opportunity to seize my person. Fortunately, I was ap- 
prised of their intentions before they had time to carry them into eS'ect. I 
was however hard pushed, and sought for by them with that diligence and 
perseverance that certainly deserved a better cause. I had manv hair- 
breadth escapes, and most assuredly should have been taken, had it not been 
for the friendship of those whom I suspect felt not less friendly to tho cause 
of my country, but dare not publicly avow it. I was at one time traced by 
the soldiers in pursuit of me to the house of one of this description, in whose 
garret 1 was concealed, and was at that moment in bed. They entered and 
inquired for mo, and on being told that I was not in the house, they in- 
sisted on searching, and were in the act of ascending the chamber stairs for 
that purpose, when, seizing my clothes, I pa-ssed up through the scuttle, and 
reached the roof of the house, and thence half-naked, passed to those of the 
adjoining ones, to the number of ten or twelve, and succeeded in making 
my escape without being discovered. 

Being continually harassed by night and day by the .soldiers, and driven 
from place to place, without an opportunity to perform a day's work, I was 
advised by one whose sincerity I could not doubt, to apply for a berth as a 
laborer in a garden of his royal majesty, situated in the village of Quow, a 
few miles from Brintford ; where, under the protection of his majesty, it 
was represented to me that I should be perfectly safe, as tho soldiers dare 
not approach the royal premises, to molest any one therein employed. 

The overseer, ignorant even that I was an American, concluded to receive 
me on trial. It was hero that I had not only frequent ojiportunities to see 
his royal majesty in person, in his frequent resorts to this, one of his country 
retreats, but once had the honor of being addressed by him. The fact was, 
that I had not been one week employed in the garden, before the suspicion 
of my being either a prisoner of war, or a spy, in the employ of the Ameri- 
can rebels, wa.s communicated, not only to the overseer and other person.s 
employed in the garden, but even the king himself! As I was one day 
busily engaged with three others in graveling a walk, I was unexpectedly 
accosted by his majesty : who, with much apparent good nature, inquired of 
rae of what country I was. "An American born, may it please your ma- 
jesty," was my reply, taking off my hat, which he requested me instantly 
to replace on my head. "Ah !" continued he, with a .smile, "an American, 
a stubborn, a very stubborn people indeed ! And what brought you to this 
country, and how long have you been here ?" " The fate of war, your ma- 
jesty. I was brought to this country a prisoner about eleven months .since." 
And, thinking this a favorable opportunity to acquaint him with a few of 
my grievances, I briefly stated to him how much I had been harassed by 
the soldiers. "While here employed, they will not trouble you," was the 
only reply he made and passed on. The familiar manner in which I was 
interrogated by his majesty, had, I must confess, a tendency in some degree 



17G ADVENTUIIES AXD ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

to prepossess mo in liis favor. I at least suspected him to possess a dispo- 
sition less tyrannical, and capable of better views thau had been imputed to 
him ; and as I had frequently heard it represented in America, that uninflu- 
enced by such of his ministers, as unwisely disregarded the reiterated com- 
plaints of the American people, he woxild have been foremost to have re- 
dressed their grievances, of which they so justl\' complained. 

I continued in the service of his majesty's gardener at Quew about four 
months, when the season having arrived in which the work of the gardener 
required less laborers, I, with three others, was discharged ; and the day 
after engaged myself for a few mouths, to a farmer in the town and neigh- 
borhood where I had been last employed — but, not one week had expired 
before the old .story of my being an American prisoner of war, otc, was re- 
vived and industriously circulated, and the soldiers, eager to obtain the prof- 
fered bounty, like a pack of blood-hounds were again on the track seeking 
an opportunity to surprise me. The house wherciu I had taken up my 
abode, was several times thoroughly searched by them, but I was always so 
fortunate as to discover their approach in season. 

I had been strongly of the opinion by what 1 had myself experienced, 
that America was not without her friends in England, and those who were 
her well-wishers in the important cause in which she was at that moment 
eng.aged ; an opinion which I think no one will disagree W'ith me in saying, 
was somewhat confirmed b\' a circumstance of that importance as entitles it 
to a conspicious place in my narrative. At a moment when driven almost 
to a state of despondency, by continual alarms and fears of falling into the 
h.ands of a set of desperadoes, who for a very small reward would willingly 
have undertaken the commission of almost any crime ; I received a message 
from a gentleman of respectability of Brintford, J. Woodstock, Esq., re- 
questing me to repair immediately to his house. 

I reached his house about eight o'clock in the evening, aud after re- 
ceiving from him at the door assurances that I might enter without fear or 
apprehension of any design on his part against me, I suffered myself to be 
introduced into a private chamber, where were seated two other gentlemen, 
who appeared to be persons of no mean rank, and proved to be no other 
than Home Tooke and James Bridges, Esqs. — names which ought to bo 
dear to every true American. 

Finding me firmly attached to the interest of my country, so much so as 
to bo willing to sacrifice even my life if necessary in her behalf, they began 
to address me with less reserve ; and after bestowing the highest encomiums 
on my counvrymen, for the bravery which tl.ey had displayed in vheir recent 
engagements with the British troops as well as for their patriotism in pub- 
licly manifesting their abhorrence and detestation of the ministerial party in 
England, who to alienate their affections and to enslave them, had endea- 
vored to subvert the British constitution, they inquired of me if, to promote 
the interests of my country, I should have any objection to take a trip to 
Paris, on an important mission, if mj- passage and other expenses were paid, 
and a generous compensation allowed me for my trouble ; and which in all 
probability would lead to the means whereby I might be enabled to return 
to my country' — to which I replied that I should have none. After having 
enjoined upon me to keep everything which they had communicated, a 



OF AMERICANS. 177 

profound secret, tliey presented mo with a guinea, and a letter for a gentle- 
men in White Waltarn, a country town about thirty miles from Brintford, 
which they requested me to reach as soon as possible, and there remain un- 
til they should send for me, and by no means to fail to arrive at the precise 
hour that they should appoint. 

After partaking of a little refreshment, I set out, at twelve o'clock at 
night, and reached White Waltam at half p.ast eleven the succeeding day, 
anil immediately waited on and presented the letter to the gentleman to 
whom it was directed, and who gave me a very cordial reception, and 
■whom I soon found was as real a friend to America's cause as the three 
gentlemen in whose company I had last been. It was from him that I re- 
ceived the first information of the evacuation of Boston by the British 
troops, and of the Declaration of Independence, by the American Congress. 
lie indeed appeared to possess a knowledge of almost every important 
transaction in America, since the memorable battle of Bunker Hill. 

I remained in the family of this gentleman about a fortnight, when I re- 
ceived a letter from 'Squire Woodcock, requesting me to be at his house, 
without fail, precisely at two o'clock the morning ensuing. In compliance 
with which I packed up and started immediately for Brintford, and reached 
the house of 'Squire Woodcock at the appointed hour. I found there, in 
company with the latter, two gentlemen whose names I have before men- 
tioned, and by whom the object of my mission to Paris was now made 
known to me — which was to convey in the most secret manner possible a 
letter to Dr. Franklin. Everything was in readiness, and a chaise ready 
harnessed which was to convey me to Charing Cross, waiting at the door. I 
was presented with a pair of boots, made expressly for me, and for the safe 
conveyance of the letter of which I was to be the bearer, one of them con- 
tained a false heel, in which the letter was deposited, and was to be thus 
conveyed to the doctor. After again repeating my former declarations, that 
whatever might be my fate, they should never be exposed, I departed, and 
was conveyed in quick time to Charing Cross, where I took the post-coach 
for Dover, and from thence was immediately conveyed in a packet to Calais, 
and in fifteen minutes after landing, started for Paris ; which I reached in 
safety, and delivered to Dr. Franklin the letter of which I was the bearer. 

What were the contents of this letter I was never informed and never 
knew, but had little doubt that it contained important information relative 
to the views of the British cabinet, as regarded the affairs of America ; and 
although I well knew that a discovery, while in the British dominions, 
would have proved eq lally fatal to me as tc the gentlemen by whom I wai 
employed, yet, I most solemnly declare, that to be serviceable to my coun- 
try at that important period, w;is much more of an object wdth me, th.^n the 
reward which I had been promised, however considerable it might be. My 
interview with Dr. Franklin was a plea.sing one; for nearly an hour he con- 
versed with me in the most agreeable and instructive manner, and listened 
to the tale of my sufi"erings with much ajiparent interest, and seemed dis- 
posed to encourage me with the assurance that if the Americans should suc- 
ceed in their grand object, and firmly establish their independence, they 
would not fail to remunerate their soldiers for their services. But, alas ! as 
regards myself, these assurances have not a.s yet been verified. 



178 ADXEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

After remaining two da\-s in Paris, letters were delivered to me by the 
doctor, to convey to the gentlemen by whom I had been employed, and 
which for their better security, as well as my own, I deposited as the other, 
in the heel of my boot ; in which manner, to the great satisfaction of my 
friends, I reached Brintford, in safety, and without exciting the suspicion of 
any one as to the important, although somewhat dangerous, mission that I 
had been engaged in. I remained secreted in the house of 'Squire Wood- 
cock a few days, and then by his and the two other gentlemen's request, 
made a second trip to Paris, and in reaching which and in delivering my 
letters, was equally as fortunate as in my first. If I should succeed in re- 
turning in safety to Brintford this trip, I was, agreeable to the generous pro- 
posal of Doctor Franl\lin, to return immediately to France, from whence ho 
was to procure me a passage to America. But, although in my return I met 
with no difficulty, yet, as if fate had selected me as a victim to endure the 
miseries and privations which afterward attended me, but three hours before 
I reached Dover to engage a passage for the third aud last time to Calais, all 
intercourse between the two countries was prohibited. 

My flattering expectations of being enabled soon to return to my native 
country, and once more to meet and enjoy the society of my friends, after 
an absence of more than twelve months, being thus by an unforeseen cir- 
cumst.ince completely destroyed, I returned immediately to the gentlemen 
by whom I had been last employed to advise with them what it would be 
best for me to do, in my then unpleasant situation — for indeed, as all pros- 
pects were now at an end of meeting with an opportunity very soon to re- 
turn to America, I could not bear the idea of remaining any longer in a 
neighborhood where I was so strongly suspected of being a fugitive from 
justice and under continual apprehension of being retaken, and immured 
like a felon in a dungeon. 

By these gentlemen L was advised to repair immediately to London, 
where, employed as a laborer, if I did not imprudently betraj- myself, they 
thought there w'as little probability of my being suspected of being an 
American. This advice I readily accepted as the plan was such a one as 
exactly accorded with m)' opinion. 

I ought here to state that before I set out for London, I was entrusted by 
these gentlemen with five guineas, which I was requested to convey and dis- 
tribute among a number of Americans, then confined as prisoners of war, 
in one of the city prisons. 

I reached London late in the evening, and the next day engaged board at 
five shillings per week, at a public house in Lombard street, where, under a 
fictitious name, I passed for a farmer from Lincolnshire. My next object 
was to find ray way to the prison where were confined as prisoners of war a 
innnber of my countrymen, and among whom I was directed to distribute 
the five guineas with which I had been entrusted for that purpose by 
their friends at Brintford. I found the prison without much difficulty, but 
it was with very considerable difficulty that I gained admittance, and not 
until I had presented the turnkey with a considerable fee would he consent 
to indulge me. The reader will suppose that I must have been very much 
mrprised, when, as soon as the door of the prisoner's apartment was opened, 
and I had passed the thrcshoUl, to hear one of them exclaim, with much 



OF AMERICAXS. 179 

apparent astonishment, " Potter ! is that you ! how in the name of heaven 
came you here !" An exclamation like this by one of a number to whom 
I supposed myself a perfect stranger, caused me much uneasiness for a few 
moments, as I expected nothing less than to recognize in this man, some 
one of my old shipmates, who had undoubtedly a knowledge of the fact 
of my being a prisoner of war, and having been confined as such on 
board the guard ship at Spithead. But, in this I soon fonnd to my satisfac- 
tion that I was mistaken, for after viewing fur a moment the person by whom 
I had been thus addressed, I discovered him to be no other than my old 
friend Sergeant Singles, with whom I had been intimately acquainted in 
America. As the exclamation was in presence of the turnkey, lest 1 
should have the key turned tipon rao, and be considered as lawful a pris- 
oner as any of the rest, I hinted to mj- friend that he certainly mistook me 
(a Lincolnshire farmer) for another person, and by a wink which he received 
from me at the same moment, gave him to understand that a renewal of our 
acquaintance or an exchange of civilities would be more agreeable to me at 
any other time. I now, as I had been requested, divided the money as 
equally as possible among them, and to prevent the suspicions of the keeper, 
I represented to them, in a feigned dialect peculiar to the laboring people of 
the Shire-towns, that, " me master was ow-ing a little trifle or so to a rebel 
trader of one of his majesty's American provinces, and was 'quested by him 
to pay the balance to his brother Yankee rebels here impirisoncd." 

I found the poor fellows, fifteen in number, confined in a dark filthy 
apartment of about eighteen feet square ; and which I could not perceive 
contained anything but a rough plank bench of about ten feet in length, and 
a heap of straw with one or two tattered, filth}- looking blankets spread 
thereon, which was probably the only bedding allowed them. For four or 
live days, after L reached London, I did very httle more than walk about the 
city, viewing such curiosities as met ni}' eye ; wdien, reflecting that remain- 
ing thus idle, I should not only 'oe very soon out of funds, but should run 
the risk of being suspected and ajiprehended as belonging to one of the 
numerous gangs of pickpockets, etc., which infest the streets of the city ; I 
applied to an intelligence office for a coachman's berth, which I was so 
fortunate as to procure, at fifteen shillings per week. My employer, 
J. Hyslop, Esq., although rigid in his exactions, was punctual in his yay- 
ments, and by my strict prudence and abstinence from the numerous diver- 
sions of the city, I was enabled in the six months which I served him, to lay 
up more cash than what I had earned the twelve months preceding. The 
r.ext business, in which I engaged was that of brickmaking, and wdiich 
together with that of gardening, I pursued in the summer seasons almost 
exclu.sively for five years ; in all which time I was not once suspected of 
being an American. 

Despairing of meeting witli a favorable opjiortunity to return to America, 
until the conclusion of peace, and the prospects of a continuation of the 
war being as great then (by what I could learn) as at any period from its 
commencement, I became more reconciled to my situation, and contracted an 
intimacy with a young woman whose parents were poor and respectable, and 
who I soon after married. I took a small ready-furnished chamber in Red 
Cross street, where with the fruits of mv hard eariungs, I was enabled to 
12 



180 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

live tolerably comfortable for three or four years — when, by sickness and 
other unavoidable circumstances, I was doonieJ to endure miseries uncom- 
mon to human nature. 

In the winter of 1781, news was received in London of the surrender of 
the army of Lord Cornwallis, to the French and American, forces ! The 
receipt of news of an event so unexjiected operated on the British ministers 
and members of Parliament, like a tremendous clap of thunder. Deep sor- 
row was evidently depicted in the countenances of those who had been 
the most strenuous advocates for the war — never was there a time in which 
I longed more to exult, and to declare myself a true-blooded Yankee. 

In September 1783, the glorious news of a definitive treaty of peace hav- 
ing been signed between the United States and Great Britain, was publicly 
announced in London. An opportunity indeed now presented for me to 
return once more to my native country, after so long an absence, had I pos- 
sessed the means ; but such was the high price demanded for a passage, and 
such had been my low wages, and the expenses attending the support of 
even a small family in London, that I found myself at this time in pos- 
session of funds hardly sufficient to defray the expense of my own passage, 
and much less that of my wife and child. 

To make the best of my hard fortune, I became as resigned and reconciled 
to my situation as circumstances would admit of. I continued to work for 
very small wages, for three or four years after the peace — but still found 
my prospects of a speedy return to my country, by no waj-s tiatt*riug. The 
peace had thrown thousands who had taken an active part in the war, out 
of employment ; London was thronged with them — who, in preference to 
starving, required no other consideration for their labor than an humble 
living, which had a lamentable effect in reducing the wages of the laboring 
dass of people ; who, previous to this event were many of them so ex- 
tremely poor, as to be scarcely able to pirocure the necessaries of life fur 
their impoverished families. 

Among this class I must rank myself, and from this period ought I to 
date the commencement of my greatest miseries, which never failed to at- 
tend me in a greater or less degree until that happy moment, when favored 
by providence, I was permitted once more to visit the peaceful shores of 
the land of my nativity. 

Having in vain sought for more profitable business, I was induced to 
apply to an acquaintance for instruction in the art of chair bottoming, and 
which I partially obtained from him for a trifling consideration. 

It was now (which was in the year 1789) that I assumed a line of busi- 
ness very different from that in which I had ever before been engaged. 

Fortunately for me, I possessed strong lungs, which I found very neces- 
sary in an employment the success of which depended, in a great measure, 
in being enabled to drown the voices of others, engaged in the same occu- 
pation, by my own. "Old chairs to mend," became now my constant cry 
through the streets of London, from morning to night : and although j 
found my business not so profitable as I could have wished, yet it 
yielded a tolerable support for my family some time, and probably would 
have continued so to have done, had not the almost constant illness of my 
cliildren, rendered the expenses of my family much greater than they 



OF AMERICANS. 181 

otherwise wcuM have been. Thus afflictcil by additional cares and expense, 
although I did everything in my power to avoid it, I was obliged to alleviate 
the snil'erings of my family, to contract some trifling debts which it was not 
in my power to discliarge. 

I now became the victim of additional miseries — I was visited by a bailiff 
employed by a creditor, who seizing mo with the claws of a tiger, dragged 
me from my poor afflicted family and inhumanly thrust me into prison ! 

Fortunately fur me, at this melanchoh' moment, my wife enjoyed good 
health, and it was to her praiseworthy exertions that her poor helpless chil- 
dren, as well as myself, owed our pireservation from a state of starvation ! 

After having for four months languished in a horrid prison, I was liberated 
therefrom a mere skeleton ; the mind afflicted had tortured the body, so 
much is the one in subjection to the other. I returned sorrowful and de- 
jected to my afflicted famih', W'hom 1 found in very little better condition. 

We now, from necessitj', took up our abode in an obscure situation near 
Moorfields ; where, by my constant ajjplication to business, I succeeded in 
earning daily an humble pittance for my family, barely sufficient however to 
satisfy the cravings of nature ; and to add to my afflictions, some one of my 
family was almost constantly indisposed. 

However wretched my situation, tlicre were many others at this period, 
with whom I was particularly acquainted, whose sufferings were greater if 
possible than my own ; and whom want and misery drove to the commission 
of crimes, that in any other situation they would probably not have been 
guilty of. 

While hundreds were d.aily becoming the wretched victims of hunger ami 
starvation, I was enabled by my industry to obtain a morsel each day for 
my family ; although this morsel, which was to be divided among four, 
would many times have proved insufficient to have satisfied the hunger of 
one. I seldom ever failed from morning to night to cry "old chairs to mend," 
through the pjrincipal streets of the city, but many times with very little 
success — if I obtained four chairs to rebottom in the course of one day, I 
considered myself fortunate indeed, but instances of such good luck were 
ver}' rare ; it was more frequent that I did not obtain a single one, and after 
crying the whole day until I made myself hoarse, I was obliged to return to 
tny poor family at night empty handed. 

So many at one time engaged in the same business, that had I not resorted 
to other means my family must inevitable have starved — while crying "old 
chairs to mend," I collected all the old rags, bits of paper, nails and broken 
glass which I could find in the streets, and which I deposited in a bag, 
that I carried with me for the purpose — these produced me a trifle, and 
that trifle when other resources failed, procured me a morsel of bread, or a 
few pounds of potatoes, for my poor wife and children. 

In February, 1792, war was declared by Great Britain against the Eepub- 
lic of France. So manj- poor jroople enlisted into the army, that it greatly 
improved the condition of those left behin<l. I no longer found it necessary 
to collect the scrajiings of the streets as I had been obliged to do for the 
many months past. I was now enabled to purchase for my family two or 
three pounds of fresh meat each week, an article to which, with one or two 
exceptions, we had been strangers for more than a year — having subsisted 



Ig2 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

principallv on potatoes, o.it-meal bread, and salt fish, and sometimes but 
rarel)' however, were enabled to treat ourseh-es- to a little skim milk. 

Had not other afflictions attended me, I should not have had much cause 
to complain of very extraordinary hardships or privations, from this period 
until the conclusion of the war in 1807 ;— my family had increased, and to 
increase my cares there was scarcely a week passed but that some one of 
them was seriously indisposed — of ten children of which I was the father, 
I had the misfortune to bury seven under iive years of age, and two more 
after they had arrived to the age of twenty — my last and only cljild now 
living, it jileascd the Almighty to spare unto me, to administer help and 
comfort to his poor afflicteil parent, and without whose assistance I should, 
so far from having been enabled once more to visit the land of my nativity, 
ere this have paid the debt of nature in a foreign land, and that too by a 
death no less horrible than that of starvation I 

As my life was unattended with any very extraordinary circumstance, 
except the one just mentioned, from the commencement of the war, until 
the re-establishment of monarchy in France, and the cessation of hostilities 
on the part of Great Britain, in 1807, 1 shall commence on the narration of 
my unparalleled sulferings, from the latter period, until that when by the 
kind interposition of Providence, I was enabled finally to obtain a passage 
to my native country- ; and to bid an adieu, and I hojie and trust a final one, 
to that island, where I had endured a complication of miseries beyond the 
power of description. 

The peace produced similar effects to that of 1783 — thousands were 
thrown out of employ and the streets of London thronged with soldiers 
seeking means to earn an humble subsistence. The cry of "old chairs to 
mend," and that too at a very reduced price, was reiterated through the 
streets of London by numbers wdio but the month before were at Waterloo- 
fighting the battles of their countr}' — which, so seriously atfected my business 
in this line, that to obtain food, and that of the most humble kind for my 
family, I was obliged once more to have recourse to the collecting of scraps 
of rags, paper, glass, and such other articles of however trifling value that I 
could find in the streets. 

The tenement which I at this time rented, and which was occupied by 
my family, was a small and wretched apartment of a garret, and for which I 
had obliged myself to pay sixpence per day, which was to be paid at the 
close of evei'y week ; and in case of failure, agreeabl}' to the laws or customs 
of the land, my furniture was liable to be seized. In consequence of my 
illness, and other misfortunes, I fell six weeks in arrears for rent, and having 
relurned one evening with my wife and son, from the performance of our 
daily task, my kind readers may judge what my feelings must have been to 
find our room stripped of every article, of however trifling value, that it 
contained. Alas, O heavens ! to what a state of wretchedness were we now 
reduced ! If there was anything wanting to complete our misery, this addi- 
tional drop to the cup of our afilictions, more than sufficed. Although the 
real value of all that they had taken from me, or rather robbed me of woidd 
not if publicly disposed of have produced a sum probably exceeding five 
dollars ; j-et it was our all, except the few tattered garments that we had on 
our back."!, and were serviceable and all important to us in our impoverished 



OF AMERICAN'S. 1S3 

BJtiiation. Not an article of bedding of any l;ind was left us on uliicli to 
repose at night, or a chair or stool on wliieli we could rest our wearied limbs '• 
but, as destitute as we were, and naked as they had left our dreary apart- 
ment, we had no other abiding place. 

To add to our distress my poor wife fell very sick. The attendance ths^t 
her helpless situation now demanded, it w;vs not within my power to afford 
her, as early the next day I was reluctantly driven by hunger abroad in 
search of something that might serve to contribute to our relief. I left my 
unfortunate companion, attend by no other person but our little son, desti- 
tute of fuel and food, and stretched on an armful of straw, which I had been 
so fortunate as to provide myself with the day preceding ; — the whole 
liroduco of my labors, this day (which I may safely say was the most mel- 
ancholy one of my life) amounted to no more than one shilling ! which I 
laid out to the best advantage possible, in the purchase of a few of the 
necessaries, which the situation of my sick companion most required. Thus 
situated, 1 was induced to make my application to the overseer for assist- 
ance, representing to him the deplorable situation of my family, who were 
actually starving for the want of that sustenance which it w;ia not in my 
power to procnre for them. The hard-hearted official thereupon said that 
I was a vile impostor, who Wiis seeking by imposition to obtain that support 
in England, which my own country had withheld from me — that the 
American Yankees had fought for and obtained their independence, and yet 
were not independent enough to support their own poor! — tluit Great 
Britain would find enough to do, were she to afford relief to every d — d 
Yankee vagabond that should apply for it! Fortunately for this abusive 
Uritish scoundrel, I possessed not now that bodily strength and activity, 
which I could once boast of, or the villian (whether within his majesty's 
dominions or not) should have received on the spot a proof of " Yankee 
independence" for his insolence. 

I succeeded finally in persuading some gentlemen to use their iidluenoo 
to have my poor wife removed to the hospital. But it was too late. She 
lingered a few daj's in a state of perfect insensibilitj', and then closed her 
eyes forever on a world, where for many years, she had been the unhappy 
subject of almost constant afliiction. 

My situation was now truly a lonely one, bereaved of my wife, and all 
my children except one ; who, although but little more than seven years of 
age, was a child of that sprightlinoss and activity, as to possess himself with 
a perfect knowledge of the chair-bottoming business, and by which he earned 
not only enough (when work could be obtained) to furnish himself witli 
food, but contribute much to the relief of his surviving parent, when con- 
fined by illness and infirmity. 

When my health would permit, I seldom failed to visit daily the most 
public streets of the city, and from morning to night cry for old chairs to 
mer.d — accompanied by my son Thomas. If we were so fortunate as to 
obtain a job of work more than we coidd complete in the day, with the per- 
mission of the owner, I would convey the chairs on my back to my humble 
dwelling, and with the assi.stance of my little son, improve the evening to 
complete the work, which wouhl produc(! ns a fi:w halfpennies to pnrcliase 
something for our breakfast the next morning. But it was very seldom that 



ISi 



ADVENTURES AXD ACllIEVEMEXTS 



instances of this kind occurred, as it was more frequciiUy tlie case lliat, after 
crying for old eliairs to mend tlio wliole day, we were obliged to retuni, 
hungry and weary, and without a single halfpenny in our pockets, to our 
humble dwelling, where we were obliged to fast iintil the succeeding day — 
and indeed there were some instances in which we were compelled to hist 
two or three days successively, without being able to procure a single job of 
work. The rent I had oblige*! myself to pay every night, and freipieutly 
when our hunger was such as hardly to be endured, I was obliged to reserve 
the few pennies that I was possessed of to apply to this purpose. 

In our most starving condition, when every other plan failed, my little 
sou would adopt the expedient of sweeping the public causeways leading 
from one walk to the other, where he would labor the whole day, with the 
expectation of receiving no other reward than what the generosity of gentle- 
men, wdio had occasion to cross, would induce them to bestow in charity, and 
wdiich seldom amoimted to more than a few pennies. Sometimes the poor 
boy would toil in this way the whole day, without being so fortunate as to 
receive a single halfpenny — it was then he would return home sorrowful 
and dejected, and while he attempted to conceal his own hunger, with tear.s 
in his eyes, would lament his hard fortune in not being able to obtain some- 
thing to appease mine. While he was thus employed I remained at home, 
hut not idle, being as busily eTigaged in making matches, with -which (when 
he returned home empty handed) we were obliged, as fatigued as we were, 
to visit the markets to expose for sale, and where we were obliged some- 
times to tarry until eleven o'clock at night, before we could meat with a 
single purchaser. 

Having one stormy night of a Saturday, visited the market with my sou 
for this purpose, and after exposing ourselves to the- chilling rain until past 
ten o'clock, without being able either of us to sell a single match, I advised 
the youth, being thinly clad, to return home, feeling disposed to tarry 
myself a while longer, in hopes that better success might attend me, as 
having already fasted one day and night, it was indispensably necessary that 
1 should obtain something to appease our hunger the succeeding day (Sun- 
day) or wdiat seemed almost impossible, to endure longer its torments ! I 
remained iratil the clock struck eleven, the hour at which the market 
closed, and yet had met with no better success ! It is impossible to de- 
scribe the sensation of despondency which overwhelmed me at this 
moment! I now considered it as certain that I must return home with 
nothing wherewith to satisfy our craving appetities — and with my mind 
lilled with the most heart-rending reilections, I was about to return, when, 
Heaven seemed pleased to interpose in my behalf, and to send relief wheu 
I little expected it. Passing a beefstall I attracted the notice of the butcher, 
who viewing me probably as I was, a miserable object of pit)', emaciated by 
long fastings, and clad in tattered garments, from which the water was fast 
drippling, and judging no doubt by my appearance, that on no one could 
charity be more properly bestowed, he threw into my basket a beefs heart, 
with the request that I would depart with it immediately for my home, it" 
any I had ! I will not attempt to describe the joy that I felt on this occa- 
sion, in so unexpectedly meeting with that relief which my situation so 
much required. I hasteneil home with a much lighter heart than what 1 



OF AMEUICAXS. IS5 

had anticipated ; and when I an-ived the sensations of joy exhihited by my 
little son on viewing the prize that I bore, produced effects as various as 
extraordinary ; he wept, then laughed and danced with transport. 

In long and gloomy winter evenings, when unable to furnish myself with 
any other light than that omitted by a little Arc of sea-ooal, I would attempt 
to drive away melancholy by amusing my son with an account of my 
native country, and of the many blessings there enjoyed by even the poorest 
class of people— of their fair fields producing a regular supply of brcad- 
their covenient houses, to which they could repair after the toils of the day, 
to partake of the fruits of their labor, safe from the storms and the cold, and 
where they could lay down their heads to rest without any to molest them 
or to make them afraid. Nothing could have been better calculated to ex- 
cite animation in the mind of the poor child, than an account so flattering of 
a country which had given birth to his father, and to which he had re- 
ceived my repeated assurances he should accompany me as soon as an op- 
portunity should present. After expressing his fears that the happy day 
was yet far distant, with a deep sigh, ho would exclaim, " Would to God it 
was to-morrow !" 

About a year after the decease of my wife, I was taken extremely ill, in.=o- 
much that at one time my life was despaired of, and had it not been for the 
friendless and lonely situation in which sucli an event would have placed 
my son, I should have welcomed the hour of my dissolution, and viewed it 
as a consummation rather to be wished than dreaded ; for so great had been 
my sufferings of mind and body, and the miseries to which I was still ex- 
posed, that life had really become a burden to me — indeed, I think it would 
have been difficult to hav.e found on the face of the earth a being more 
wretched than I had been for the three years past. 

During my illness my only friend on earth was my son Thomas, who did 
everything to alleviate my wants within the power of his age to do. Some- 
times by crying for old chairs to mend (for he had become as expert a work- 
man at this business as his father), and sometimes by sweeping the cause- 
ways, and by making and selling matches, he succeeded in earning each day 
a triiie sufficient to procure for me and himself an himible sustenance. 

From the moment that I had informed him of the many blessings en- 
joyed by my countrymen of every class, I was almost constantly urged by 
my son to apply to the American consul for a passage. It was in vain that 
I represented to him, that if such an application was attended with success, 
and the opportunity should be improved by me, it must cause our sepa- 
ration, perhaps, forever ; as he would not be permitted to accompany me 
at the expense of government. 

At length, having learned the place of residence of the American consul, 
and fearful of the consequences of delay, he would give me no peace until 
I promised that I would accompany him there the succeeding day, if my 
strength would admit of it ; for although I had_partially recovered from a 
severe fit of sickness, yet I was still so weak and feeble as to be scarcely 
able to walk. 

My son did not forget to reminil me early the next morning of my pro- 
ra.sc, and to gratify him, more than with an expectation of meeting with 
much success, I set out with him, feeble as I was, for the consul's. I was 



ISO ADVEXTUIIES AXD ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

never before so sensible of the effects of my bing suffering — which had 
produced that degree of boiiily weakness and debility, as to leave me scarcely 
strength sufficient to move without the assistance of my son ; who, when 
he found me reeling or halting through weakness, would support me until 
I had gained sufficient strength to proceed. 

Although the distance was but two miles, yet such was the state of my 
weakness, that although we started early in the morning, it was half past 
three o'clock p. u. when we reached the consul's oflSce, when I was so much 
exhausted as to be obliged to ascend the steps on ray hands and knees. 

Fortunately I found the consul in, and after I had told my story, which 
at first he would scarcely believe, he informed me that he would procure 
me a passage at government exijense : but that my son, being a British born 
subject, could not go with me. But that he would send my son at his own 
expense, provided I would agree on his arrival in America to his living with 
a connection of his. To this I joyfully consented, and my son took passage 
the next day on the London packet for Boston, while I, being too infirm to 
take the voyage, was boarded at a public inn at the consul's expense until 
mv health should be in a measure re-established. 

In eight weeks, I was so far recruited by good living, as, in the oiiinion 
of the consul, to be able to endure the fatigues of a passage to my native 
country, and which was prociu'ed for rae on board the ship Criterion bound 
to New- York. We set sail on the 5th April, 1823, and after a passage of 
forty-two days, arrived safe at our port of destination. Such were my pleas- 
ing sensations as we entered the harbor, caused by the reflection that on the 
morrow I should be permitted to walk once more on American ground, 
lifter an absence of almost fifty years, that it was in vain that I attempted 
to close my eyes in sleep. Never was the morning's dawn so cheerfully 
welcomed by me ; and as my feet touched the shore, I did not forget to 
offer up my unfeigned thanks to that Almighty Being, who had not only 
Kusfcained mo during my heavy aflilictions abroad, but had finally restored 
me to my native country. 

From New York, I went to Boston, and there met my son. By his earnest 
request, I visited Bunker Hill, which ho had a curiosity to view, having 
heard it so frequently spoken of by me while in London, as the place where 
the memorable battle was fought, and in which I received my wounds. I 
continued in Boston about a fortnight, and then set out on foot to visit once 
more mv native State. My son accompanied me as far as Roxbury. It 
may not be improper here to acquaint my readers, that as I had left my 
father possessed of very considerable property, and of which, at his decease, 
I thought myself entitled to a portion equal to that of the other children, 
which (as my father was very economical in the management of his affairs_, 
I knew could not amount to a very inconsiderable sum. It was to obtain 
this, if possible, that I became extremely anxious to visit immediately the 
place of ray nativity. Accordingly, the day after I arrived in Providence, I 
hastened to Cranston, to seek my connections, if anywhere to be found ; and, 
if not to seek among the most aged of the inhabitants, some one who had 
not forgotten me, and who might be njble to furnish me with the sought for 
information. But, alas, too soon were blasted my hopeful expectations of 
Cndiii" somethin" in reserve forme, that might have afforded me an humble 



OF AMEPiICAXS. 1^7 

support, the few remaining years of my life. It was by a distant connection 
that I was informed that my brothers had many years since removed to a 
distant part of the country — that having credited a rumor in circulation of 
my death, at the decease of my father, had disposed of the real estate of 
which he died possessed, and had divided the proceeds equally amoni; 
themselves I This was another instance of adverse fortune that I had not 
anticipated ! It was indeed a circumstance so foreign from my mind that I 
felt myself for the first time, unhappy, since my return to my native country, 
and even believed myself now doomed to endure among my own countrymen 
(for whose liberties I had fought and bled) miseries similar to those that 
had attended me for many years in Europe. With those gloomy forebod- 
ings, I returned to Providence, and contracted for board with the gentleman 
at whose house I had lodged the first night of my arrival in town, and to 
whom for the kind treatment that I have received from him, and his family, 
I shall feel till death under the deepest obligations that gratitude c;in 
dictate ; for I can truly say of him, that I was a stranger and he took me 
in ; I was hungry and naked, and he fed and clothed me. 

As I had never received any remuneration for services rendered, and 
hardships endured in the cause of my country, I was now obliged, as my 
last resort, to petition Congress to be included in that number of the few 
surviving soldiers of the RevoUition, for whose services thej- had been 
jdcased to grant pensions — and I would to God that I could add, for the 
honor of my country, that the application met with its deserving success — 
but, although accompanied by the deposition of a respectable gentleman, 
satisfactorily confirming every fact therein stated — yet on no other prin- 
dple, than that I teas absent from the coinitnj when the pension lino passed — 
my petition was rejected ! Picader, I have been for thirty years, as you 
will perceive by what I have stated in the foregoing pages, subject, in a 
foreiijn country, to almost all the miseries with which poor human nature is 
capable of being afflicted — yet, in no one instance did I ever feel so great 
a degree of depression of spirits, as when the fate of my petition was 
announced to me ! 

'I'o conclude : Although I may be again unfortunate in a renewal of my 
epplication to government, for that reward to which my services so justly en- 
title me, yet I feel thankful that I am privileged, after enduring so much, 
to spend the remainder of my days among those who I am confident are 
possessed of too much humanity to see me suffer; and which I am sensible 
I owe to the divine goodness, which graciously condescended to support me 
under my numerous afflictions, and finallj- enabled me to return to my na- 
tive country in the 79th year of ray age. For this I return unfeigneil 
thanks to the Almighty ; and hope to give during the remainder of my life, 
convincing testimonies of the strong impression which those afflictions made 
on my mind, by dcvotitig myself sincerely to the duties of religion. 



The preceding narrative of one of the more humble sufferers from our 
revolutionary contest, we trust, has been found interesting. A literary 
gentleman wrote down his memoirs from liis lips, as here given, slightly 



1S8 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

abridged. These were published in a small book, with a title nearly iden- 
tical with that which heads this article. A friend at our elbow, recollects 
when a boy — more than thirty years since — seeing a little, crooked, long- 
bearded old man, leaning on a cane, accompanied by a young lad, traveling 
about the country, peddling this "Life and Remarkable Adventures." Of 
his subsequent history, wo are uninformed ; but he must long ere this have 
been gathered to his fathers — and a neglected spot, in some isolated country 
church-yard, is, probably the resting-place of the mortal remains of Israel 
Pi. Potter, " a native of Cranston, Pliode Island, who was a soldier in the 
American Revolution." 



THE 



TWO O 11 A T O E S 

OF 

OUR REVOLUTIONARY ERA; 



JAMES OTIS, OF MASSACHUSETTS, AND PATRICK HENRY, OF VIRGINIA. 



Oratoby is an art more practiced by tlie American, than by any other 
peoijle ; and because by none is it so much required. The nature of their 
institutions demands it, the business of government being with all, and open 
to all for public discussion. Their facility in extemporaneous oratory is tlie 
surprise of other people. That American embassador and historian who 
astonished English gentlemen at a public dinner in their country, by the 
force and polished beauty of an nnexpected, unprepared speech, only sup- 
plied an example of what others of his countrymen could have equaled. 

We give in these pages sketches of two of the most eminent orators of the 
era of our revolution — James Otis and Patrick Henry. The history of 
the latter has been made widely known by the genius of Wirt, but of the 
former few memorials remain : many whose eyes trace these lines, herein, 
for the first time, learn his name. Yet before the year 1770, no American, 
excepting Dr. Franklin, was so well known, and so often named in tho 
colonies and in England. His papers have all perished, none of his speeches 
were recorded, and he himself was cut off just on the eve of the revolution, 
so that his name is not associated with familiar public documents. It is 
owing to this that the most learned, eloquent, and influential man of the 
time is now so little known, that the following language of President Adams 
seemed exaggerated, although Chief Justice Dana, and other eminent char- 
acters, used commendation equally strong. Says President Adams: "I 
have been young, and now am old, and I solemnly say, I have never known , 
a man whose love of his country was more ardeLt or sinceie ; never, one 
who suffered so much ; never, one whose services for any ten years of his 
life were so important and essential to the cause of his country, as those of 
Mr. Otis, from 1760 to 1770." 

James Otis was tho son of Colonel James Otis, and was born at West 
Barnstable, Massachusetts, February 5, 1721. He was educated at Harvard, 
studied law, and settled in Boston, where ho soon attained to the highest 
rank in his profession. 

He came upon the stage at a time when the mother country liad deter- 
roined to enforce her "Acts of Trade," — laws of parliament which bore with 
crushing force upon the industry and enterprise of the colonics, especially 

(189) 



VJO ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

those of New Englaml. These people were descended from that virtuous, 
but stern and inflexible part of the English nation, who, determined not to 
boar the chains of religious and kingly tyranny, had sought and found a 
home in the wilds of a new continent at a vast expense of blood and suffer- 
ing. They owed nothing to the royal government but their charter, yet the 
moment they began to overcome the first great trials of their new settle- 
ment, they were doomed to submit to a system of restrictive laws, calculated 
to crush them to poverty. Having no great staple of agriculture, the only 
resource for accumulating the comforts and luxuries of life were commerce 
and manufactures ; but here their exertions were impeded by these laws. 
These forbade them to manufacture, because the manufactures of England 
would be injured ; they were restricted in their commerce, because tho 
English shipping-interest would suffer. Even tho fish they caught off their 
own coast, they were not allowed to sell for French and Spanish molasses, 
because the English sugar colonies in the West Indies would be thus 
deprived of the monopoly of supplying them with the finny tribe. They 
could not import teas from Holland, because it interfered with the East 
India Company ; in fine, they could not trade with Spain and Portugal, r.or 
with any other nation. Everything brought to the colonies must be in 
English-built ships, owned in England, and manned by English sailors. 
The boasted protection of the mother country was, to use the language of 
Sir Edmund Bui'ke, "perfect uncompensated slavery." 

Immediatolj' after the conquest of Canada, in 17G0, the custom-house 
officers, in compliance with instructions from England, began to tal;e 
measures to strictly enforce all these obnoxious laws, some of which had 
remained a de.ad letter. As a preliminary measure, an order in council was 
received to carry into effect these laws of trade, and to apply to the Supreme 
Court of the province for ivrits of assistance, a species of search warrant to be 
granted to the officers of customs, to search for goods on which duties hail 
not been paid. 

Hutchinson, the Lieutenant Governor of the province, was at this juncture 
appointed by the crown Chief Justice of the Supreme Court ; thus, for the 
time, having united in his one person the highest judicial and executive 
offices in the province. This extraordinary power conferred upon one man, 
evinced the unfriendly designs of government, and was a cause of just alarm 
to all reflecting minds. Otis was at this time Advocate General : believing 
these laMs were illegal and tyrannical, he refused to give his official assist- 
ance, and at once resigned his oflice, which was not only very lucrative, 
but, if filled by an incumbent of a compliant spirit, led to the highest favors 
from the crown. 

The merchants of Boston and Salem engaged Otis and Thatcher to make 
their defense. The trial took place in February, 1761, in the council 
chamber of the old Town House in Boston, before Lieutenant Governor 
Hutchinson, as Chief Justice, with four Associate Judges. Tho court was 
crowded with the most eminent citizens, deeply solicitous in the cause 

The case was opened for government by Mr. Gridley, the old law tutor of 
Otis, and very ably argued : in all his points he made his reasoning depend 
upon this consi<ieration — " if the parliament of Great Britain is the sove- 
reign legislator of the British Empire, then, elo" lie was repJiet) t^. by Mr. 



OF AMEUIf'ANS. I'Jl 

Thatcher, in an ingenious, sensible speech, delivered vvilli great mildness. 
"But," in the language of President Adams, "Otis was a flame of fire ; with 
a promptitude of classical allusions, a depth of research, a rapid summary of 
historical events and dates, a profusion of legal authorities, a prophetic 
glance of his eyes into futurity, and a rapid torrent of impetuous eloquence, 
ho hurried away all before him. American Independence was then and 
there born. The seeds of patriots and heroes were then and there sown. 
Every man of an immense, crowded audience, appeared to me to go away 
as I did, ready to take up arms against writs of assistance. Then and there 
was the first scene of the first act of opposition, to the arhitranj claims of Qreat 
Britain. Then and there the child Imdependence was horn. In fifteen 
years, i. e. in 1776, he grew uj5 to rnanliood, and declared himself free." 

In opening this case, Otis said, "I will to my dying day oppose with all 
the powers and faculties God has given me, all such instruments of slavery 
on the one hand, and villainy on the other, as is this writ of assistance. It 
appears to me th&worst instrument of arbitrary power, the most destructive 
of English liberties and the fundamental principles of law, that ever was 
found in an English law book." Ho then went on to speak of his resigning 
his ofSce of Advocate General, that he might argue this cause, of the enemies 
he thereby had made, and how from his very soul he despised them. " Let," 
added he, "the consequences be what they will, I am determined to proceed. 
The only principles of public conduct that are worthy of a gentleman or a 
man, are to sacrifice estate, ease, health, and applause, and even life, to tluj 
sacred calls of his country. These manly sentiments, in private life, make 
the good cilizen ; in public life, the patriot and the hero. I do not say that, 
when brought to the test, I shall be invincible. I pray God that I may 
never be brought to the melancholy trial, but if ever I should, it will then 
be known how far I can reduce to practice, principles which I know to be 
founded in truth." lie then proceeded with the subject of the writ, which 
the officers of the revenue were afraid to use without the sanction of tlie 
Superior Court. That it was impossible to devise a more outrageous instru- 
ment of tyranny, one which naturally led to such enormous abuses. 

"This writ," said he, "being general, is illegal. I admit that special 
writs of assistance, to search special places, may be granted to certain persons 
on oath ; but I deny that the writ now prayed for can be granted. In the 
first place the writ is universal, being directed to all and singular justices, 
sheriffs, constables, and all other oflioers, and subjects ; so that it is in short 
directed to every subject in the king's dominions. Everyone with this writ 
may lie a lyrant in a legal manner, also, may control, imprison, or murder 
any one within the realm. In the next place, it is perpetual — there is no 
return. A man is accountable to no person for his doings. Every man may 
reign secure in his petty tyranny, and spread terror and desolation around 
him, until the trump of the archangel shall excite different emotions in his 
soul. By this writ not only deputies, but their menial servants, in the day- 
time, may enter our houses, shops, etc., at will, and command all to assist 
them ; and thus lord it over us. What is this but to have the curse of 
Canaan with a witness on us ; to be the servant of servant.s, the most despi- 
cable of God's creation . Now, one of the most essential branches of English 
liberty, is the freedom of one's house. A man's house is his castlo ; and 



192 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

while he is quiet, he is as well guarded iu it, as a priuce is in his. This 
writ, if declared legal, would totallj' annihilate privilege. Custom-house 
officers, with their menials, may enter our houses when they please, may 
break locks, bars, and everything in their way ; and whether they break 
through malice or revenge, no man, no court can inquire. Bare suspicion 
without oath is sufficient." He cited some facts in proof of this, and then 
went on to show, by an old statute, that any person, as well as the custom- 
house officers, had this power. " What a scene," said he, " does this open ? 
Every man, prompted by revenge, ill humor, or wantonness, to inspect the 
inside of his neighbor's house, may get a writ of assistance. Others will ask 
it from self-defense. One arbitrary act will provoke another, until society 
be involved in tumult and in blood." 

His argument lasted about five hours, and the summary of it can now 
only be given in. the words of President Adams, scraps of which only have 
we room to insert. He divided it into five parts : " 1. He began with an 
exordium, mainly personal. 2. A dissertation on the rights of man in a 
state of nature. He asserted that every man, merely natural, was an inde- 
pendent sovereign, subject to no law, but the law written on his heart, and 
revealed to him by his Maker, in the constitution of his nature, and the in- 
spiration of his understanding and his conscience. His right to his life, his 
liberty, no created being could rightfully contest. Nor was his right to his 
property less incontestible. The club that he had snapped from a tree, for 
A staff, or for defense, was his own. His bow and arrow were his own ; if 
with a pebble he had killed a partridge or a squirrel, it was his own. No 
creature, man or beast, had a right to take it from him. If he had taken 
an eel, or a smelt, or a sculpion, it. was his property. In short, lie sported 
upon this topic with so much wit and humor, and, at the same time, with 
so much indisputable truth and reason, that he was not less entertaining 
than instructive. He asserted that these rights were inherent and inalien- 
able. That they never could be surrendered or alienated, but by idiots or 
madmen, and all such acts were void, and not obligatory by the laws of God. 
and man. Nor were the poornegroes forgotten. Not a Quaker in Philadel- 
phia, or Mr. Jefferson of Virginia, ever asserted the rights of negroes in 
stronger terms. Young as I was, and ignorant as I was, I shuddered at the 
doctrine he taught ; and I have all my life shuddered, and still shudder at 
the consequences that may be drawn from such premises. Shall we say 
that the rights of masters and servants clash, and can be decided only by 
force ? I adore the idea of gradual abolitions ! but who shall decide how 
fast or how slowly these abolitions shall be made ? 

3. From individual independence he proceeded to association. If it waa 
inconsistent with the dignity of human nature, to say that men were gre- 
garious animals, like wild geese, it would surely offend no delicacy to say, 
they were social animals by nature ; that there were natural sympathies, 
and, above all, the sweet attraction of the sexes, which must soon draw 
them together in little groups, and by degrees, in larger congregations, for 
mutual assistance and defense. And this must have happened before any 
formal covenant, by express words or signs, was concluded. When general 
councils and deliberations were commenced, the objects could be no other than 
the mutual defense and security of every individual for his life, his liberty, 



OF AMERICANS. I93 

and his property. To suppose them surprised by fraud, or compelled hy 
force into any other compact, could confer no obligation of obedience. 
Every man had a right to trample it under foot whenever he pleased. In 
short, he asserted their rights to be derived only from nature, and the 
author of nature ; that they were inherent, inalienable, and indefeasible by 
any laws, facts, contracts, covenants, or stipulations, which man could 
devise. 

4. These principles and rights were brought into the English constitu- 
tion as fundamental laws. And under this head he went back to the old 
Saxon laws, and to Magna Charta, and the fifty confirmations of it in parlia- 
ment. He asserted that the security of these rights to life, liberty, and 
property, had been the object of all those struggles against arbitrary power, 
temporal and spiritual, civil and political, military and ecclesiastical, in every 
age. He asserted that our ancestors, as British subjects, and we their 
descendants, as British subjects, were entitled to all those rights, by the 
British constitution, as well as by the laws of nature, and our provincial 
cliarter. 

5. He then examined the Acts of Trade, one by one, and demonstrated, 
that if they were considered as revenue laws, they destroyed all our security 
of property, liberty, and life, every right of nature, and the English con- 
stitution, and the charter of the English province. 

He then proceeded to enlarge upon the odious Navigation Act, as the 
first in order among those acts, which were now to be enforced by the Writs 
of Assistance. The main provisions of this act prohibited importations to 
these colonies, excepting in British-built ships, manned by British sailors, 
and no goods of foreign jjroduction could be brought, even in English ship- 
ping, excepting from the countries that produced them. The Navigation 
Act, however, was wholly prohibitory, it abounded with penalties and for- 
feitures, but it imposed no taxes. The distinction, therefore, was vastly 
great between this and the Acts of Trade. Though no revenue was to be 
derived from this act, still it was intended to be enforced by these writs, 
and houses were to be broken open and ransacked under their authority to 
enforce it. He discussed most amply all the effects which the Acts of 
Navigation produced upon the colonies. 

From the Navigation Act he passed to the Acts of Trade, and these, he 
contended, imposed taxes, enormous, burdensome, intolerable taxes ; aud 
on this topic he gave full scope to his talent, for powerful declamation, and 
invective against the tyranny of taxation without represenlutimi. From tho 
energy with which Otis urged this position, that taxation without represen- 
tation is tyranny, it came to be a common maxim in the mouth of every one. 
And with him it formed the basis of all liis speeches aud political writings ; he 
builds all his opposition to arbitrary measures from tliis fouudatiou, and 
perpetually recurs to it through his whole career, as the great constitutional 
theme of liberty, and as the fundamental principle of all opposition to 
arbitrary power. 

He showed by many sound and striking observations, how unjust, op- 
pressive, and impracticable, were these Acts of Trade ; that they never h;ul 
been, and never could be executed ; and asserted, what must then have 
been considered rather extravagant, though it was doubtless true, 'That if 



19i ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

the king of Great Britain, in person, were encamped on Boston Common, at 
the head of twenty thousand men, with all his navy on our coast, he would 
not be able to execute these laws. They would be resisted or eluded.' He 
further adv.anoed principles, while commenting on the Sugar Act, that must 
have been heard by his audience with very strong, but very different emo- 
tions, when he asserted this act 'to be a revenue law, a taxation law, made 
by a foreign legislature, without our consent, and by a legislature who had 
no feeling for us, and whose interest prompted them to tax us to the quick.' 

The last ground taken by him iu commenting on these later Acts of 
Trade, was their incompatibility with the charter of the colony. In advert- 
ing to the history of the charters and the colony, he fell naturally on the 
merit of its founders, in undertaking so perilous, arduous, and almost des- 
perate an enterprise; in 'disforesting bare creation;' in conciliating and 
necessarily contending with Indian natives ; in purchasing, rather than con- 
quering a quarter of the globe, at their own expense, by the sweat of their 
own brows, at the hazard and sacrifice of their own lives ; without the 
smallest aid, assistance, or comfort, from the government of England, or 
fi'om England itself as a nation : on the contrary, meeting with constant 
jealousy, envy, intrigue against their charter, their religion, and all their 
privileges. He reproached the nation, parliament and king with injustice, 
illiberality, ingratitude, and oppression, in their conduct toward this country, 
in a style of oratory I never heard equaled in this or any other country." 

After the close of his argument, the court decided that it could see no 
foundation for the writ; but as the practice in England was unknown, they 
would adjourn the question until the next term. It was. never again there 
agitated, but it was generally understood that the court secretly granted the 
writs. It was of no avail, for the custom-house olficers never dared to ex- 
ecute them. No cause in the annals of colonial jurisprudence had ever 
given rise to such powerful argument. When the profound learning of the 
advocate, the powers of wit, fancy, and pathos, with which he could co- 
piously illustrate that loarning and the ardent character of his eloquence are 
considered ; when we reflect upon the jiersonal sacrifices he made to appear 
on the occasion, the deep foresight he had of the ojjpression and tyranny 
that would have followed the success of this hateful application — when all 
these circumstances are recalled, the power and magnificence of this oration 
may be imagined. With a knowledge of the topics that were involved, and 
the fearless energy with which they were developed and elucidated, the 
time when, and the circumstances under which they occurred, we need not 
be surprised at the declaration of President Adams: "I do say, in the 
most solemn manner, that Mr. Otis' oration against writs of assistance 
breathed into this nation the breath of life." 

Beside the great public anxiety in regard to the results of this trial, some 
incidents of a personal nature, of an interesting character were attendant 
upon it. Otis was the pupil of Gridley, the attorney for the officers of 
customs. He felt for his character a high respect, and sincere gratitude for 
bis instructions ; and he never lost sight of these feelings on this occasiou. 
" It was," says President Adams, " a moral spectacle, more affecting to me 
than any I over witnessed on the stage, to observe a pupil treating his master 
with all the deference, respect, esteem, and affection of a son to a father, and 



OF AMERICANS. 195 

Uiat without tbe least affectation ; while he baffled aud confounded all his 
authorities, confuted all his arguments, and reduced him to silence !" 

The crown, by its agents, accumulated construction uj^on construction, 
and inference upon inference, ;is the giants heaped Pelion upon Ossa. He 
dashed this whole building to pieces, and scattered the pulverized atoms to 
the four winds ; and no judge, lawyer, or crown-officer dared to say, why do 
ye so ? Such was the storm of indignation he raised, that even Hutchinson, 
who had been appointed on purpose to sanction this writ, dared not utter a 
word in its favor; and Mr. Gridley, hiraself, seemed to exult inwardly at 
the glory and triumph of his pupil. 

From this moment a new epoch in political aflairs arose. Political parties 
became more distinctly founded. The right of the British parliament to im- 
pose taxes, was openly denied. " Taxation without representation is 
tyranny," at once became the maxim and watchword of all the friends of 
liberty. Otis, who had never before interfered in public affaii's, forthwith 
became the idol of the patriots, and the terror and vengeance of their royal 
enemies. He was almost unanimously chosen to the legislature in the en- 
suing May, and continued a member of that body for several years. "On 
the week of the election of Otis," says President Adams, '•! happened to be 
at Worcester attending court. When the news arrived from Boston, you 
can have no idea of the consternation among the government people. Chief 
Justice Euggles said, on that day, 'Out of this election will arise a d — d 
faction, which will shake this province to its foundation.' " 

In 1762, a bill was brought before the legislature, to exclude the Judges 
of the Superior Court from being members thereof; it was lost bj- a majority 
of seven votes. The object of this was to prevent Hutchinson from uniting 
in his person an office as Legislator, in addition to his employments of 
Lieutenant Governor and Chief Justice. Otis demonstrated with unan- 
swerable arguments the incompatibility of these offices, and the dangerous 
abuses which must follow from such a violation of the whole spirit of a free 
government. It is a striking proof (says Mr. Tudor, in his Life of Otis, from 
which this article is derived) of the progress that has been since made in 
the science of constitutions, that a principle could not then be sustained in ^ 
legislative body, which is now felt by every citizen, to form the basis of all 
political liberty and civil security, viz : the separation of the legislative, 
judicial, and executive functions. 

At the session of September, 1762, Bernard, the governor of the province, 
sent in a message, informing them that ho had increased the armament of 
the Massachusetts sloop, which had been sent out to protect the fisheries 
from the ravages of the Frencli cruisers. This message gave rise to a re- 
markable discussion, and this trifling expenditure, without the knowledge 
of the legislature, may be considered as one of the preparatory causes ot 
the revolution. Through the dissemination of the great principles laid 
down by Otis in his speech on the writs, viz : that "taxation without repre- 
sentation was tyr.anr'-" .ind that expenditures of public monej-, without ap- 
propriations by tlie representatives of the people, were arbitrary, unconstitu- 
tion.ll, and, therefore, tyrannical, the people had become watchfully jealous 
of every encroachment on their rights. The public began to look at prin- 
ciple., and to resist cverv insidious precedent inflexiblv. 
13 



101 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

This state of feeling in America is thus finely described by Burke. " In 
other countries the people, more simple, of a less mercurial cast, judge of an 
ill principle in government only by an actual grievance ; here they antici- 
pate the evil, and judge of the pressure of the grievance by the badness of 
the principle. They augur misgovernmeut at a distance, and snuff the 
approach of tyranny in every tainted breeze." 

Such was the superiority of Otis over every other member of the house in 
talents, information, and energy, that he at once took the lead ; and in his 
written reply, as chairman to the committee on this message, gave utterance 
to the following bold sentiments : 

"It is in effect taking from the house their most darling privilege, the 
right of originating taxes. It is, in short, annihilating one branch of the 
legislature. And when once the representatives of the people give up this 
privilege, the government will very soon become arbitrary. No necessity 
can be sufficient to justify a house of representatives in giving up such a 
privilege ; for it would be of little consequence to the people, whether they 
were subject to George, or Ivouis, the king of Great Britain, or the French 
king, if both were arbitrary, ns both would be, if both could levy taxes with- 
out parliament." "Treason! Treason!" here broke in a member, just in 
the same way as Patrick Ilenrj', three years later, was interrupted. The 
answer closed with an appeal to the executive, that as he regarded the peace 
and welfare of the province, he should take no such unauthorized measures 
in the future. 

This reply was passed and sent into the governor. His excellency re- 
turned it forthwith with a letter, complaining of the disrespectful manner in 
which his majesty had been spoken of. The house finally acceded to his 
request, and expurged the so considered sacrilegious and traitorous passage. 
Other messages passed between the parties, but without any satisfaction to 
either. 

After the adjournment Otis wrote a pamphlet-history of the whole matter, 
justifying their course. This production was the original source from which 
all subsequent arguments against taxation were derived. The great princi- 
ples of constitutional liberty are shown to rest at last on this basis, that taxa- 
tion and representation are inseparable. The specious pretenses of public 
welfare, the mask to hide the encroachments of arbitrary power are all torn 
away; and the vigilance of a clear-sighted statesman is exhibited in the utmost 
plainness and energy. "IIow many volumes," says President Adams, "are 
concentrated in this little pamphlet, the production of a few hurried hours. 
Look over the' Declarations of Eights and Wrongs, issued by congress in 
1774. Look into the Declaration of Independence in 1776. Look into the 
writings of Dr. Price and Dr. Priestly. Look into all the French constitu- 
tions of government ; and, to cap the climax, look into Mr. Thomas Paine's 
(llommon Sense, Crisis, and Rights of Man ; what can you find that is not to 
be found in solid substance in this vindication of the House of Repre- 
sentatives." 

The reader will, perhaps, be interested by a quotation or two from this 
vindication of Otis. The first line we take, is one which, afterward being 
ado|)ted into our Declaration of Independence, is recognized as the most 
rforious idea in that great instrument : 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 197 

God maile all men naturally equal. 

The ideas of earthly superiority, pre-eminence, and grandeur, are educated, 
at least, acquired, not innate. 

Kings were — and pUiutation governors should be — made for the good of 
the people, and not the people for them. 

No government has a right to make hobby-horses, asses, and slaves of the 
subject ; nature having made sufScient of the two former for all the lawful 
purposes of man, from the harmless peasant in the Held, to the most refined 
politician in the cabinet ; but none of the last [slaves], which infallibly 
proves they are unnecessary. 

Though most governments are, in fact, arbitrary, and, consequently, the 
cairse and scandal of human nature, yet none arc by right arbitrary. 

The more elevated the person who errs, the stronger, sometimes, the 
obligation to refute him; for the errors of great men are often of very 
dangerous consequences to themselves, as well as to the little ones below 
them. 

Tlie world ever has been, and ever will be, pretty equally divided be- 
tween those two parties, vulgarly called the winners and losers ; or, to speak 
more precisely, between those who are discontented that they have no 
power, and those who think they can never have enough." 

In the ycrar 1764, the alarm throughout the colonies began to be excessive, 
as it was evident that the mother country was taking measures to strictly 
enforce the Navig.atiou Acts, and the Acts of Trade. Town meetings were 
lield in Boston, Salem, and all the other principal ports in which instructions 
were given to their representatives to resist all attempts to tax them with- 
out their consent. These memorials were referred to a committee of the 
legislature, of which Otis was chairman, and upon them he made a verj' 
able report upon the injustice of taxation, " without the voice of one Ameri- 
c:m in parliament ? " " If," said he, " we are not represented, we are slaves: 
nay, the British colonists will be in a worse condition than those of any 
other province ; for, besides maintaining internal provincial governments 
among themselves, they must pay toward the support of the national, civil, 
and military government in Great Britain. Now it is conceived that no 
people on earth are douhly taxed for the support of government." 

Shortly after this, Otis published a pamphlet entitled, " The Rights of 
the British Colonies asserted and proved," which attracted much attention. 
lie also wrote, in 1765, a scathing answer to the servile " Halifax libel," — a 
published letter from "a gentleman in Ualifax to his friend in Rhode 
Island," in which the plan of representation was ridiculed, and British taxa- 
tion defended ; accompanied by miserable sneers and insolence against the 
colonists, as an inferior race of men, who ought to bo submissive to the 
English parliament. In the same year, Otis produced another work, in a 
letter form : " Considerations on behalf of the Colonists." It is spirited and 
able, and is the last written by him : its chief topics are taxation and repre- 
sentation, and it was given as an answer to an Knglish publication, by a Mr. 
J — s. "Remember, Britons,"' said ho, therein, "when you shall bo taxed 
without your consent, and tried without a jury, and have an army quartered 
in private families, you will have little to hope or to fear !" 

The Stamp Act had been jiassed, and the crisis so imminent, that these 



198 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

questions were of vitul importance. Tlie manner in which that odious act 
was received by the colonists, is too well known for relation here. In 
October of this year the famous Stamp Act Congress, composed of delegates 
from nine colonies, met in New York ; and of this body no member stood 
higher for energy and talents than Mr. Otis. Their remonstrances led to the 
repeal of the hated act. 

The next year, 1766, and several successive years, Boston was represented 
ill the legislature by Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Thomas Cashing, and 
James Otis ; and these four gentlemen exercised a wide influence in all the 
events which led to American Independence. Otis and Cusliing only lived 
to see the dawn of their country's prosperity ; Adams and Hancock were 
destined to outlive the period of trial. John Hancock was the most 
wealthy merchant in the province, and one of the most elegant and accom- 
plished men of his time. In private life, he was renowned for his benevo- 
lence and hospitality, and in pul:ilic life, for his noble spirit. He was con- 
sulted when it was contemplated to burn Boston, to expel the enemy. He 
answered, that although the great part of his fortune consisted in buildings 
within it, yet if its destruction would be useful to his country, it should be 
set on fire forthwith. He was not remarkable as an orator; but as a presi- 
dent of a public body, he was unsurpassed. In 1776, he had the honor to 
be president of that immortal assembly which signed the Declaration of In- 
dependence. His bold signature to that instrument is familiar to every one. 
As he laid down his pen, he exclaimed : "There, the British ministry can 
read that name without spectacles ; let them double their reward," referring 
to a reward that had been offered for him and Samuel Adams : they being 
considered arch-rebels. He died in 1793, at the age of fifty-sis years, and 
would have died poor, so entirely had he neglected his private afl'airs in his 
country's good, but for his originally immense fortune. 

Samuel Adams was one of the most remarkable men of his day. From 
his earliest youth his attention was drawn to political affairs. In 1743, on 
taking the degree of Master of Arts at Harvard, he propose^ the question, 
"Whether it be lawful to resist the supreme magistrate, if the common- 
wealth cannot be otherwise preserved ?" and took the affirmative. In the 
legislature he was upon every committee, had a hand in writing or revising 
every report, a share in the management of every political ui jcting, and a 
voice in all tlie measures against the tyrannical plans of the administrations 
The people found him one of their most steadfast friends, the government, 
one of its most inveterate opponents. When his character was known in 
England, and it was also understood ho was poor, the partisans of the 
ministry wrote and inquired of Hutchinson, in a spirit of vexation, why he 
did not silence him b}' a good fat berth. That official replied: "Such is 
the obstinacy and inflexible disposition of the man, that he never can be 
(Conciliated by any ofBce or gift whatsoever," — information which they could 
scarcely credit — so different was it from their experience in such matters. 
Adams was clerk of the Massachusetts' Assembly for ten years. Step by 
step, and inch by inch, ho fought the enemies of popular liberty, and was 
the most active of the patriots of Boston in inciting the people to throw 
overboard the tea, in 1773. When General Gage, in 1774, sent to dissolve 
the colonial asseml)ly, lie found the door locked : the key was in Samuel 



OF AMERICANS. 199 

Adams' pocket. After he had received warning at Lexington, the night of 
the 18th of April, 1775, of the intended British expedition, as he proceeded 
to make his escape though the fields, he exclaimed, when the day dawned : 
" This is a fine day ! " " Very pleasant, indeed,'" answered one of his com- 
panions, su[)posing he alluded to ihe beauti" of the morning. "I mean," 
he replied, "it is a glorious day for America!" A few days before the 
battle of Bunker Hill, Gage offered a pardon to all rebels excepting Samuel 
Adams and John Hancock, "whose offenses are of too flagitious a nature 
to admit of any other consideration than of condign punishment." This 
virulent proscription, intended to be their ruin, widely extended their fame. 

As a member of the Continental Congress, he was an earnest advocate of 
the revolution, which declared the colonies free and independent States ; 
and when some members faltered through fear of failure, the stern Puritan 
exclaimed : "I should advise persisting in our struggle for liberty, though 
it were revealed from heaven that nine hundred and ninety-nine were to 
perish, and only one out of a thousand survive and retain his libertj' ! One 
such free man must possess more virtue, and enjoy more happiness than a 
thousand slaves ; and let him propagate his like, and transmit to them what 
he hath so nobly preserved." 

The verj- faults of his character rendered his services more useful, by con- 
fining his exertions to a single point, and preventing their being weakened 
by indulgence and liberality toward different opinions. There was a tinge 
of bigotry and narrowness both in his politics and religion. He was a strict 
Calvanist, and full of the feelings of the ancient Puritans. He was simple 
and frugal in his habits, which led him to despise all royal luxury and pa- 
rade. He had all the animosities and all the firmness that could qualify a 
man to be the asserter of the rights of the people. So inflexible was he in 
his principles, that sooner than pay an illegal tax of a sixpence, he would 
have been condemned as a traitor, and mounted the scaffold. He succeeded 
Hancock as governor, and died in 1803, at the age of eighty-two years. 
Notwithstanding his many years of eminent service, he must have been 
buried at the public expense, if the afflicting death of an only son had not 
remedied this honorable poverty. 

Such were the men associated with Otis in these years of struggle, pre- 
ceding the war, with the officials of the crown. The most important of the 
state papers of this period were drawn up by Otis and revised by Adams. 

Otis, whose great learning, keen preception, bold and powerful rea-soning, 
made him the primary source of almost every measure, generally gave the 
first drau;?ht. Adams, who saw to everything, and blended great caution 
with excessive watchfulness and exertion, revised, corrected, and polished, 
where it might be requisite, though the aim at fine writing was too paltry a 
matter, compared with the magnitude of the cause in which they were en- 
gaged, to excite a moment's .solicitude. 

In the summer of 1769, Otis published some very severe strictures upon 
the conduct of the Commissioners of Customs. Happening in alone one 
evening into a coffee-house where Robinson, one of those commissioners, 
and a number of British officers were sitting, an altercation ensued, when the 
lights were blown out, and the party, .irmed with bludgeon.s, pounced upon 
him. He escaped death, but to meet a worse fate. His brain was injured, 



200 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

and his reason dethroned. A verdict of ten thousand dollars was awarded 
as damages in a civil suit against Robinson. Otis, in a lucid interval, very 
magnanimously forgave the base ruflian, and refused to receive a dollar of 
the damages awarded him. For many years, all through the scenes of the 
revolution, the patriot lived on, with his great intellect in ruins, compara- 
tively useless to the world, and a deep grief to his friends. When at times 
the cloud was lifted from his reason, he talked calmly of death, and ex- 
pressed a desire to die by a stroke of lightning. His wish was gratified. 
On the 23d of May, 1783, he stood leaning on his cane at the door of a 
friend's house in Andover, watching the sublime spectacle of an approaching 
thunder-cloud, when suddenly a bolt leaped from it, like a swift messenger 
from God to his spirit, and killed him instantly. Thus perished one of the 
master-spirits of his time, of whom few memorials remain ; but enough to 
show that the future historians of the United States, in considering the 
foundations of American Independence, must inscribe a chief corner-stone 
with the name of James Otis. 

PATRICK HENEY 

Patrick Hen'ry, the second son of John and Sarah Henry, and one of 
nine children, was born on the 29th of May, 1736, at the family seat, called 
Studley, in Hanover county, Virginia. At the age of ten years he was taken 
from the school where he learned to read and write, and taught Latin by 
his father, who had opened a grammar-school in his own house. At the 
same time he acquired some proficiency in mathematics. Passionately ad- 
dicted to the sports of the field, he could not brook the toil and confinement 
of study. And the time which should thus have been employed, was often 
passed in the forest with his gun, or over the brook with his angling-rod. 
"His companions frequently observed him lying along, under the shade of 
some tree that overhung the sequestered stream, watching for hours, at the 
same spot, the motionless cork of his fishing-line, without one encouraging 
symptom of success, and without any apparent source of enjoyment, unless 
he could find it in the ease of his position, or in the illusion of hope ; or, 
which is most probable, in the stillness of the scene, or the silent workings 
of his own imagination." This love of solitude in his youth, was a marked 
trait in his character. 

The wants of a large family compeled his father to find employment for 
his sons. At the age of fifteen, Patrick was put behind the counter of a 
country merchant, and the year following, entered into business with his 
elder brother, William, with whom was to devolve its chief management; 
but such were his idle habits, that he left the burden of the concern to 
Patrick, who managed wretchedly. The drudgery of business became in- 
tolerable to him, and then too, " he could not find it in his heart," to dis- 
appoint any one who came for credit ; and he was very easily satisfied with 
apologies for non-payment. He sought relief from his cares by having re- 
course to the violin, fiute, and reading. An opportunity was presented of 
pursuing his favorite study of the human character, and the character of 
every customer underwent his scrutiny. 

One year put an end to the mercantile concern, and the two or three 



OF AMERICANS. 201 

following Patrick was engaged in settling up its affairs. At ci^liteen years 
of age he married Miss Shelton, the daughter of a neighboring farmer of 
respectability, and commenced cultivating a small farm ; but his aversion to 
systematic labor, and want of skill, compelled him to abandon it at the end 
of two yeare. Selling off all his little possessions at a sacrifice, he again em- 
barked in the hazardous business of merchandise. His old business habits 
still continued, and not unfrequently he shut up his store to indulge in the 
favorite sports of his youth. His reading was of a more serious character ; 
history, ancient and modern, he became a proficient in. Livy, however, was 
his favorite ; and having procured a copy, he read it through at lea.st once a 
year in the early part of his life. In a few years his second mercantile ex- 
periment left him a bankrupt, and without any friends enabled to assist him 
further. All other means failing, he determined to try the law. His un- 
fortunate habits, unsuitable to so laborious a profession, and his pecuniary 
situation unfitting him for an extensive course of reading, led every one to 
suppose that he would not succeed. With only six weeks' study, he 
obtained a license to practice, he being then twenty-four years of age. He 
was then not only unable to draw a declaration or a plea, but incapable, it 
is said, of the most common and simple business of his profession. It was 
not until his twenty-seventh year, that an opportunity occurred for a trial of 
his strength at the bar. In the meantime the wants and distresses of his 
family were extreme. They lived mostly with his father-in-law, Mr. Shelton, 
who then kept a tavern at Hanover court-house. Whenever Mr. Shelton 
was from home, Henr}' took his place in the tavern. The occasion on which 
his genius first broke forth, was the controversy between the clergy and the 
legislature and people of the State, relating to the stipend claimed by the 
former. The cause was popularly known as the parsons' cause. A decision 
of the court on a demurrer in favor of the claims of the clergy, had left noth- 
ing undetermined but the amount of damages in the cause which was pend- 
ing. Soon after the opening of the court, the cause was called. The scene 
which ensued is thus vividly described by Wirt : 

" The array before Mr. Henry's eyes was now most fearful. On the bench 
sat more than twenty clergymen, the most learned men in the colony, and 
the most capable, as well as the severest critics, before whom it was jiossible 
for him to have made his debut. The court-house was crowded with an over- 
whelming multitude, and surrounded with an immense and anxious throng, 
who, not finding room to enter, were endeavoring to listen without, in the 
deepest attention. 

But there was somcthin,<^ still more awfully disconcerting than all this; 
for in the chair of the presiding magistrate sat no other person than his own 
father. Mr. Lyons opened the cause very briefly : in the way of argument 
he did nothing more than expLain to the jury, that the decision upon tiiu 
demurrer had put the act of 1758 entirely out of the way, and left the law 
of 1748 as the only standard of their damages ; he then concluded with a 
highly-wrought eulogium on the benevolence of the clergy. 

And now came on the first trial of Patrick Henry's strength. No one had 
ever heard him speak, and curiosity was on tiptoe. He rose very awkwardly, 
and faltered much in his exordium. The people hung their heads at so 
unpromising a commt'nf«ment ; the clergy were oliscrved to exchange sly 



202 ADVKXTUllES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

looks with each other ; and his fatlier is deseiihoJ as having ahiiost sunk 
with confusion from his seat. 

But these feeUngs were of s-hort Juration, and soon gave ph\ce to ntherii 
of a very different character. For now were those wonderful faculties which 
ha possessed, for the first time, developed ; and now was first witnessed that 
mysterious and almost supernatural transformation of appearance, which the 
fire of his own eloquence never failed to work in him. For as his mind 
rolled along, and began to glow from its own action, all the exuviae of the 
clown seemed to shed themselves spontaneously. 

His attitude, by dc.i^rees, became erect and lofty. The spirit of his genius 
awakened all bis features. His countenance shone with a nobleness and gran- 
deur which it had never before exhibited. . There was a lightning in bis eyes 
wliioh seemed to rivet the spectator. Uis action became graceful, bold and 
commanding ; and iu the tones of his voice, but more especially in his em- 
phasis, there was a peculiar charm, a magic, of which any one who ever 
heard him will speak as soon as he is named, but of which no one can give 
any adequate description. They can only say that it struck upon the ear 
and upon the lieart, in a manner which language cannot tell. Add to all these, 
his wonder-working fancy, and the peculiar phraseology in which he clothed 
its images ; for he painted to the heart with a force that almost petrified it. 
In the language of those who heard him on this occasion, 'he made their 
blood run cold, and their hair to rise on end.' 

It will not be difficult for any one who ever heard this most extraordinary 
man, to believe the whole account of this transaction, which is given by his 
surviving hearers; and from their account, the court-house of Hanover 
county must have exhibited on this occasion, a scene as jjicturesque, as has 
been ever witnessed in real life. 

They say that the people, wliose countenances had fallen as he arose, had 
heard but a very few sentences before they began to look up ; then to look 
at each other with surprise, as if doubting the evidence of their own senses ; 
then, attracted by some strong gesture, struck b}- some majestic attitude, 
fascinated by the spell of his eye, the charm of his emphasis, and the varied 
and commanding expression of his countenance, they could look away no 
more. 

In less than twenty minutes, they might bo seen in every part of the 
liouse, on every bench, in every window, stooping forward from their stands, 
in death-like silence; their features fixed in amazement and awe; all their 
senses listening and riveted upon the speaker, as if to catch the last strain of 
some heavenly visitant. The mockery of the clergy was soon turned into 
alarm; their triumph into confusion and despair; and at one burst of his 
rapid and overu-lielming invective, they fled from the bench in precipitation 
and terror. As for the father, such was his surprise, such his amazement, 
such his rapture, that, forgetting where he was, and the character which he 
was filling, tears of eostacy streamed down his cheeks, without the power or 
inclination to repress them. 

The jury seem to have been so completely bewildered, that they lost sight, 
not only of the ,aot of 1748, but that of 1758 also ; for thoughtless even of 
the admitted right of the plaintiff, they had scarcely left the bar, when they 
returned with a verdict of one pnwt/ damages. A motion was made for a 



OF AMERICANS. 203 

new trial; but the court, too, had now lost the equipoise of their juilgaicnt, 
and overruled the motiou by a unanimous vote. Tlie verdict and judgment 
overriding the motion, were followed Ijy redoubled acclamations, from witliiii 
and without the house. 

The people, wdio had with difficulty kept their hands off their champion, 
from tlie moment of closing his harange, no sooner saw the fate of the cause 
finally sealed, than they seized him at the bar, and in spite of his own exer- 
tions, and the continued cry of 'order' from the sheriffs and tlie court, they 
bore liim out of the court-house, and raising him on their shoulders, carrieil 
him about the yard, in a kind of electioneering triumph. 

I have tried much to procure a sketch of this celebrated speech. But 
those of Mr. Henry's hearers who survive, seem to have been bereft of tlieir 
senses. The}- can only tell you, in general, that they were taken captive; 
and so delighted with their captivity, that they followed implicitly, whither- 
soever he led them : that, at his bidding, their tears flowed from pity, and 
their cheeks flushed with indignation : that when it was over, they felt as if 
tliey had just awaked from some ecstatic dream, of vhich they were 
unable to recall or connect the particulars. It was such a speech as they 
believed had never before fallen from the lips of man." 

From this time Mr. IIenr\''s star was in the ascendant, and he at once rose 
to the head of his profession in that section. In the autumn of 1764, having 
removed to Roundabout, in Louisa county, ho was employed to argue a case 
before a committee on elections of the House of Burgesses. He distiit- 
guished himself by a brilliant disjjlay on the right of suffrage. Such a burst 
of eloquence from a man of so humble an appearance, struck the committee 
with amazement, and not a sound, but from his lips, Vjroke the deep silence 
of the room. 

In 1765, ho was elected a member of the House of Burgesses, when he 
introduced his celebrated resolutions on the Stamp Act. Among his pajiers 
there was found, after his decease, one sealed and thus indorsed : ^ 

" Inclosed are the resolutions of the Virginia Assembly, in 1765, concern- 
ing the Stamp Act. Let my executors open this paper." Ou the back of 
the paper containing the resolutions was tlie following indorsement : " The 
within passed the House of Burgesses in May, 1765. They formed the first 
opposition to the Stamp Act, and the scheme of taxing America by the 
British 1 (.rliatrient. All the colonies, either through fear, or the want of 
o^qiortunity to form an opposition, or from influence of some kind or other, 
had remained silent. I had been for the first time elected a burgess a few 
days before, was young, inexperienced, unacquainted with the forms of the 
house, and the members who composed it. Finding the men of weight 
averse to opposition, and the commencement of the tax at hand, and lliat no 
person was likely to step forth, I determined to venture ; and alone, unaided 
and unassisted, on the blank leaf of an old law-book, wrote the within. 
Upon offering them to the house, violent debates ensued. Many threats 
were uttered, and much ^buse cast on me by the parties for submission. 
After a long and warm contest, the resolutions passed by a very small 
majority, perhaps one or two only. The alarm spread throughout America 
with astonishing quickness, and the ministerial party wore overwhelmed. 
The great point^of resistance to British taxation was universally established 



204: ADVENTURES AXD ACIllEVEIMENTS 

iti the coloiiies. This brought on the war, which finally separated the two 
countries, and gave independence to ours. Whether this will jjrove a bless- 
ing or a curse, will depend upon the use our peophi make of the blessings 
which a gracious God hath bestowed on us. If they are wise, they will be 
great and happy. If they are of a contrary character, they will be miserable. 
Righteousness alone can exalt them as a nation. Reader, whoever thou art, 
remember this ; and in thy sphere, practice virtue thj-self, and encourage it 
in others.— P. HENRY." 

It was in the midst of the above-mentioned debate, that he exclaimed, in 
tones of thunder, " Ocesar had his Brutus — Charles the First his Cromu-cll^ 
and George the Third — (' Treason ! ' cried the speaker — ' Treason ! treason ! ' 
echoed from every part of the house. Heur}' faltered not for a moment; 
taking a loftier attitude, and fixing on the speaker an eye of fire, he finished 
his sentence with the firmest em\>hi\&iA) —mai/ profit by then- exwiiiple. If 
this be treason, make the most of it."' Henceforth Mr. Henry was the idol 
of the people of Virginia, and his influence, as one of the great champions 
of liberty, extended throughout America. In 1769, he was admitted to the 
bar of the general court. Without that legal learning, which study alone can 
supply, he was deficient as a mere lawj-er ; but before a jury, in criminal 
cases particularly, his genius displ.ayed itself most brilliantly. Ilis deep 
knowledge of the springs of human action, his power of reading in the 
flitting expressions of the countenance what was passing in the hearts of his 
hearers, has rarely been possessed by any one in so great a degree. In 1767 
or '68, Mr. Henry removed back to Hanover, and continued a member of 
the House of Burgesses until the_ close of the revohition, acting upon its 
most important committees, and infusing a spirit of bold ojiposition in its 
members to the pretensions of Britain. He was a delegate to the first 
Colonial Congress, which assembled September 4, 1774, at Philadelphia. 

On the 20th of April, 1775, (less than one month jirior to the battle of 
Lexington), the Virginia assembly of delegates met for the second time, and 
in the old church, St. Johns, which is still standing in the town of Riclv- 
mond. In the session of the year previous, th.at body, while remonstrating 
with great feeling against their grievances, nevertheless avowed their deteE- 
mination to support his majesty, King George III, with their lives and fou- 
tunes. These sentiments still influenced many of the leading members. 
Not so Patrick Henry. He saw no alternative but abject submission, or 
heroic resistance. 

On the morning of the 23d of March, resolutions were oflered, still breath- 
ing the spirt of loyalty to the crown. These were "gall and wormwood" 
to Mr. Henry. The house required being wrought up to a bolder tone. He 
thereupon moved a series of resolution.^, to the effect that a militia force be 
raised, and the colony be put in a state of defense, to prevent the further 
violatiiin of their liberties with which they were threatened. 

When these resolutions were read, a general thrill of horror ran through 
the assembly. They were considered rash and unadvised. Some of the 
ablest of tlie members arose and spoke against them. They felt that with a 
little more patience their long scries of oppressions would be remedied, that 
they were too feeble to cope with the power of Great Britain, and that ruin 
to their countrv would inevitablv follow an armed resistance. When Mr. 



OF AMERICANS. 005 

Henry rejilicd, lie delivered that unsurpassed speech, so familiar to us all in 
our schoolboy days. Says Wirt : 

" He arose at this time with a majesty unusual to him in an exordium, 
and with all that self-possession by which he was so invariably distinguished, 
'No man,' he said, 'thought more highly than he did of the patriotism, as 
well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who had just addressed the 
house. But different men often saw the same subject in difl'erout lis^hts ; 
and, therefore, he hoped it would not be thought disrespectful to those 
gentlemen, if, entertaining as he did, opinions of a character very ojiposito 
to theirs, he sliould speak forth his sentiments freely, and without reserve. 

'This,' ho said, ' Wiis no time for ceremony. The question before this 
house was one of awful moment to the country. For his own part, he con- 
sidered it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery. And in 
jiroportiou to the magnitude of the subject, ought to be the freedom of the 
debate. It w.is only in this way that they could hope to arrive at truth, 
and fulfill the great responsibility which they held to God and tlicir country. 
Should he keep back his opinions at such a time, through fear of giving 
offense, he should consider himself as guilty of treason toward his country, 
and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of heaven, which he revered 
above all earthly kings. 

'Mr. President,' said he, 'it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions 
of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth — and listen lo 
the song of that siren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this,' he asked, 
' the part of wise men, engaged in a great and ariiuous struggle for liberty ? 
Were we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyef, see not, 
and having cai-s, hear not the things which so nearly concern their temporal 
salvation ? For his part, whatever anguish of spirit it miglit cost, he was 
willing to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it. 

'He had,' he said, 'but one lamp by which his feet were guided; and 
that was the lamp of experience. He knew of no way of judging of tho 
future but by the past. And judging by tho past, he wished to know what 
there had been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, 
to justify those hopes witli which gentlemen had been pleased to solace 
themselves and the house ? Is it that insidious smile with which our peti- 
tion has been lately received ? Trust it not, sir ; it will prove a snare to 
your feet. Suffer not yourself to be bctr.aycd with a kiss. 

' Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with 
those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken onr land. Are 
fleets and armies necessary to a work of Irve and reconciliation ? Have W9 
shown ourselves so unwilling to bo reconciled, that force must be called in 
to win b.ick our love ? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are tho 
implements of war and subjugation — the l:Lst arguments to which kings 
resort. 

' I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not 
to force us to submission ? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive 
for it ? Hivi Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call 
for all this accumulation of navies and armies ? Ko, sir, she has none. 
They are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They are sent 
over to bind and rivet upon us those chains whidi the British ministry have 



20G ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

been so long forging. And what have we to oppose them ? Shall we try 
argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we 
anything new to offer upon the subject '? Nothing. We have held the 
subject up in every light of which it is capable : but it has been all in vain. 
Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? Wliat terms shall 
we find which have not been already exhausted ? 

' Let us not, 1 beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have 
done everything that cnuld be done to avert the storm w-hich is now coming 
on. We have petitioned — we have remonstrated — we have supplicated — 
we have prostrated ounselves before the throne, and have implored its inter- 
position to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parliament. Our 
petitions have been slighted ; our remonstrances have produced additional 
violence and insult ; our supplications have been disregarded ; and we have 
been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. 

' In vain, after these things, maj- we indulge the fond hope of jieaoe and 
reconciliation. There is no lontjer any romn for Iwpe. If w'e wish to be free — 
if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we 
have been so long contending — if we mean not basely to abandon the noble 
struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have 
pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest 
shall be obtained ! — we must fight ! — I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An 
appeal to arms and to the Grod of hosts, is all that is left us ! 

'They tell us, sir,' continued Mr. Henrj', 'that wo are weak — unable to 
cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shaU we be stronger. 
Will it be the next week, or the next year ? Will it be when we are totally 
disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house ? 
Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction ? Shall we acquire 
the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hug- 
ging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemy shall have bound us 
hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those 
means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. 

' Three millions of people armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such 
a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our 
enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles 
alone. There is a just God, who presides over the destinies of nations, and 
who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not 
to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, 
sir, we have no election. If we were ba-i^e enough to desire it, it is now too 
late to retire from the contest. There is uo retreat but in submission and 
slavery ! Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the 
plains of Boston ! The war is inevitable — and let it come ! I reiieat it, sir, 
let it come ! 

'It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry peace, 
jreace — Imt thei-e is no peace. The war is actually begun ! The next gale 
that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding 
arms ! Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? 
What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so 
dear, or peace .so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and 
slavery ? Forbid it, Almight}' God ! — I know not what course others may 



OF AMERICANS. 207 

take ; but as for mc,' cried he, with both his arras extouded aloft, his brows 
kuit, every feature marked with the resolute purpose of his soul, and his 
voice swelled to its boldest note of exclamation — ' Qive vie Liberty, or give 
me Death ! ' * 

He took his seat. Ko murmur of applause was heard. The effect waa 
too deep. After the trance of a moment, several members started from their 
seats. The cr}-, ' to arms ! ' seemed to quiver on every lip, and gleam from 
every eye. Eichard H. Lcc arose and supported Mr. Henry, with his usual 
spirit and elegance. But his melody was lost amid the agitations of that 
ocean, which the master-spirit of the storm had lifted up on high. That 
supernatural voice still sounded in their ears, and shivered along their 
arteries. They heard, in every pause, the cry of liberty or death. They 
became impatient of speech, their souls were on fire for action. 

Upon Lord Dunmore's seining the gunpowder at Williamsburg, in the 
night after the battle of Lexington, Henry summoned volunteers to meet 
him ; and marching down toward the capitol, compelled the agent of Dun- 
more to give a pecuniar}' compensation for it. This was the first military 
movement in Virginia. The colonial convention of 1775, elected him the 
colonel of the fii'st regiment, and the commander of " all the forces raised, 
and to be raised for the defense of the colony." Soon resigning his com- 
mand, he was elected a delegate to the convention, and not long after, in 
1776, the first governor of the commonwealth, a!i office he hold, by succes- 
sive re-elections, until 1779, when, without any intermission, he was no 
longer constitutionally eligible While holding that office he was signally 
serviceable in sustaining public spirit during the gloomiest period of the 
revolution, providing recruits, and crushing the intrigues of the tories. 

On leaving the office of governor, he served until the end of the war in 
the legislature, when he w'as again elected governor, until the state of his 
all'airs caused him to resign in the autumn of 1780. Until 1794, he regularly 
attended the courts, where his great reputation obtained for him a lucrative 
business. "In 1788 he was a member of the convention of Virginia, which 
sc ably and eloquently discussed the constitution of the United States. He 
employed his masterly eloquence, day after day, in opposition to the pro- 
posed constitutiou. His hostility to it proceeded entirely from an apprehen- 
sion that the federal government would swallow the sovereignty of the 
States ; and that ultimately the liberty of the people would be destroyed, or 
crushed, by an overgrown and ponderous consolidation of political power. 
The constitution having been adopted, the government organized, and 
Washington elected president, his repugnance measurably abated. The 
chapter of amendments considerably neutralized his objections : but, never- 
theless, it is believed that his acquiescence resulted more from the con- 
Bideration of a citizen's duty, confidence in the chief magistrate, and a hope- 

• Now and tlicu n sentence is origiiiat<:il oii occasions of momentous public interest, 
which £0 vividly expresses a great ideii, tliat it is id once seized upon, and becomes im- 
uioitnl. " 6'iiic me Liberty, or gine me Death! " will never be lost. It is of the same 
character with "Opposition to Tyranls is tilndieuce to God! " Other examples less 
startling, but not less appropriate, arc of more i ecout origin. " Your Strength is in your 
Wrongs!" '■ My Ooo/ls are for sair — not my t'riitciplis! " 



20S ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

ful reliance on the wisdom aiij virtue of the people, rather than from any 
material change in his opinions." 

In 179i, Mr. Henry retired from the bar. In 1796 the post of governor 
was once more tendered to him, and refused. In 1798 the strong and 
animated resolutions of the Virginia Assembl}', in opposition to the alien 
and sedition laws, which laws he was in favor of, 'conjured up the most 
frightful visions of civil war, disunion, blood, and anarchy ; and under the 
impulse of these phantoms, to make what he considered a virtuous effort for 
his country, he presented himself in Charlotte county as a candidate for the 
House of Delegates, at the spring election of 1799,' although he had retired 
to private life three years previously. 

On this occasion he encountered the eccentric John Randolph, who had 
presented himself as a candidate for congress, and opposed those measures 
Mr. Henry advocated. They met at the court-house, and supported a long 
and animated discussion. Mr. Henry was then in his sixty-seventh year ; 
the measure of his fame was full ; the late proceedings of the Virginia 
Assembly, in relation to the alien and sedition laws, h.id filled him with 
alarm — " had planted his pillow with thorns, and he had quitted his retire- 
ment to make one more, his last effort for his country." Enfeebled by age 
and ill-health, with a linen cap on hio head, he mounted the hustings, and 
commenced with difficulty ; but as he jiroceeded, his eye lighted up with its 
wonted fire, his voice assumed its wonted majesty ; gradually accumulating 
strength and animation, his eloquence seemed like an avalanche threatening 
to overwhelm his adversary. Many present considered it liis best effort. 
In the course of the speech, Mr. Henry said, "The alien and sedition laws 
were only the fruits of that constitution, the adoption of which he opposed. 
... If we are wrong, let us all go Avrong together," at the same lime clasp- 
ing his hands and waving his body to the right and left. His auditory un- 
consciously waved with him. As he finished he literally descended into the 
arms of the obstreperous throng, and was borne about in triumph, when Dr. 
John H. Rice exclaimed, " The sun has set in all his glory .'" 

As Mr. Henry left the stand, Mr. Randolph, with undaunted courage, 
arose in his place. He was then about twenty-six years of age — a mere boy 
from college, who had, probably, never yet addressed a political assembly — 
of a youthful and unprepossessing appearance. The audience, considering 
it prcs\unptuous for him to speak after Mr. Henry, partially dispersed, and 
an Irishman present, exclaimed, "Tut! tut! it won't do, it's nothing but 
tlie bating of an old tin pan after hearing a fine church-organ." But if " the 
sun of the other had set in all his glory," his was about to rise with, perhaps, 
an equal brilliancy. He commenced : " his singular person and peculiar 
aspect ; his novel, shrill, vibratory intonations ; his solemn, slow-marching, 
and swelling periods ; his caustic crimination of the prevailing political party ; 
his cutting satire ; the tout ensemhle of his public debut, soon calmed the 
tumultuous crowd, and inclined all to listen to the strange orator, while he 
replied at length to the sentiments of their old favorite. When he had con- 
cluded, loud huzzas rang through the welkin. 

This was a new event to Mr. Henry. He had not been accustomed to a 
rival, and little expected one in a beardless boy : for such was the aspect of 
the champion who now .appeared to contend for the palm which he Wiia 



OF AMERICANS. 209 

■wont to appropriate to himself, He returned to the stage and commenced a 
second address, in which he soared above his usual vehemence and majesty. 
Such is usually the fruit of emulation and rivalship. He frequently ad- 
verted to his youthful competitor with parental tenderness ; complimented his 
rare talents with the liberality of profusion ; and, while regretting what he 
deprecated as the political errors of youtliful zeal, actually wrought himself 
and audience into an enthusiasm of sympathy and benevolence that issued 
in an ocean of tears. The gesture, intonations, and pathos of Mr. Henry, 
operated like an epidemic on the transported assembly. The contagion 
was universal. An hysterical phrensy pervaded the audience to such a 
degree, that they were at the same moment literally weeping and laughing. 
At this juncture the speaker descended from the stage. Shouts of applause 
rent the air, and were echoed from the skies. The whole spectacle as it 
really was, would not only mock every attempt at description, but would 
almost challenge the imagination of any one who had not witnessed it. 

Mr. Henry was elected by his usual commanding majority, and the most 
formidable preparations were made to oppose him in the assembly. But 
" the disease, which had been preying upon him for two years, now hastened 
to its crisis ; and on the 6th of June, 1799, this friend of liberty and man 
was no more. 

By his first wife he had sis children, and by his last, six sons and throe 
daughters. He left them a large landed property. He was temperate and 
frugal in his habits of living, and seldom drank anything but water. He 
was nearly sis feet in height, spare, and raw-boned, and with a slight stoop 
in his shoulders ; his complexion dark and sallow ; his countenance grave, 
Uioughtful, and penetrating, and strongly marked with the lines of profound 
reflection, which with his earnest manner, and the habitual knitting and 
contracting of his brows, gave at times an expression of severity. 

In private life, Mr. Henry was as amiable as he was brilliant in his public 
career. He was an exemplary Christian, and his illustrious life was greatly 
ornamented by the religion which he professed. In his will he left the 
following testimony respecting the Christian religion: "I have now dis- 
jrosed of all my property to my family. There is one thing more I wish I 
could give them, and that is the Christian religion. If they have that, and 
I had not given one shilling, they would be rich; and if they have not that, 
and I had given them the whole world, they would he poor." 

yVo continue this article with the statement of some facts and a few 
anecdotes. 

When fourteen years of age, Mr. Henry went with his mother in a car- 
riage to the Fork Church, in Hanover, to hear preach the celebrated S.imuel 
Davies, afterward president of Princeton College. His eloquence made a 
deep impression on his youthful mind, and he always remarked, he was the 
greatest orator he ever heard. When a member of the Continental Con- 
gress, he said, the first men in that body were Washington, Richard Henry 
Lee, and Roger Sherman; and later in life, Roger Sherman and George 
Mason, the greatest statesmen he over knew. When governor, he had 
printed and circulated in Richmond, at his own expense, Soame Jenyns' 
View of Christianity, and Butler's Analogy of Natural and Revealed 
Religion. Sherlock's sermons, he affirmed, was the work which removed 



210 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

all his doubU of the truth of Christiauity ; a copy of which, until a short 
time since, was in the possession of his children, filled with marginal notes. 
He read it every Sunday evening to his family, after which they all joined 
in sacred music, while he accompanied them on the violin. He never 
quoted jjoetry. His quotations were from the Bible, and his illustrations 
from the Bible, ancient and modern history. He was opposed to the adop- 
tion of the federal constitution, because he thought it gave too much power 
to the general government; aud in conversation with a friend, he remarked 
with emphasis ; '■ The President of the United States will always come in 
at the head of a party. He will be supported in all his acts by a party. 
You do not now think much of the patronage of the president ; but the day 
is coming when it will be tretnendous, and from this power the countrj' 
may sooner or later fall." 

In the British debt cause, of which Wirt gives a full account, Mr. Henry 
made great preparation. He shut himself up in his office for three days, 
during which he did not see his family : his food v/as handed by a servant 
through the office-door. The Countess of Huntington, then in this country, 
was among the auditors, and remarked, after hearing the arguments of the 
several speakers, "That if every one of them had spoken in "Westminster 
Hall, they would have been honored with a peerage." Mr. Henry had a 
diamond ring on his finger, and while he was speaking, the countess ex- 
claimed to the judge, Iredell — who had never before heard him — "The 
diamond is Hazing!" "Gracious God!" replied be, "he is an orator, 
indeed." In this cause ho injured his voice so that it never recovered its 
original power. 

The following anecdote was related by President Madison, at the conclu- 
sion of the late war, to a party of gentlemen assembled at his residence in 
Washington. In the revolutionary war, certificates were given by the legis- 
lature to the Virginia line on continental establishment, stating the amount 
due to them, which was to be paid at a future time. The necessities of the 
soldiers, in many instances, compelled them to part with the certificates to 
speculators for a trivial sum. Madison brought a bill before the legislature 
to put a stop to it. He had previously asked Mr. Henry if he was willing 
to support it. The reply was " Yes ; " but having no further communication 
with him on the subject, Mr. Madison feared ho had forgotten the circum- 
stance. After the bill was read, he turned to where Mr. Henry sat, with an 
anxious eye, upon which the latter immediately arose and addressed the 
house. Mr. Madison said, that upon thct occasion be was jjarticularly 
ebiquent. His voice reminded him of a trumpeter on the field of battle, 
calling the troops to a charge. He looked alternately to the house and the 
audience, and saw they were with the orator ; and, at the conclusion, one of 
the chief speculators in tickets, then in the galleries, exclaimed, in an 
audible voice : "That bill ought to pass!" — it did pass, and unanimously. 

Many years ago (writes the Rev. Dr. Speece), I was at the trial, in one of 
our District Courts, of a man charged with murder. The case was briefly 
this : the prisoner had gone, in execution of his office as constable, to arrest 
a slave who had been guilty of some misconduct, and bring him to justice. 
Expecting opposition in the business, the constable took several men with 
him, some of them armed. They foimd the slave on the plantation of his 



OF AMERICANS. 211 

master, within view of the house, aud procoeiled to seize and bind him. 
His mistress, seeing the arrest, came down and remonstrated vehemently 
against it. Finding her eflbrts unavailing, she went off to a barn where her 
liusband was, who was presently perceived running briskly to the house. It 
was known he always kept a loaded rifle over his door. The constable now 
desired his company to remain where they were, taking care to keep the 
slave in custody, while he himself would go to the house to prevent 
mischief. He accordingly ran toward the house. When he arrived within 
a short distance of it, the master appeared, coming out of the door with his 
rifle in his hand. Some witnesses said that as he came to the door he drew 
the cock of the piece, and was seen in the act of raising it to the position of 
firing. But upon these points, there was not an entire agreement in the 
evidence. The constable, standing near a small building in the yard, at 
this instant fired, and the fire had a fatal effect. No previous malice was 
proved against him ; and his plea upon the trial was, that he had taken the 
life of his assailant in necessary self-defense. 

A great mass of testimony was delivered. This was commented upon 
with considerable ability by the lawyer for the commonwealth, aud by 
another lawyer engaged by the friends of the deceased for the prosecution. 
The prisoner was also defended, iu elaborate speeches, by two respectable ad- 
vocates. These proceedings brought the day to a close. The general whisper 
through a crowded house was, that the man was guilty and could not be 
saved. 

About dusk candles were brought, aud Henry arose. His manner was 
exactly that which the British Spy describes with so much felicity : plain, 
simple, and entirely unassuming. 'Gentlemen of the jur}',' said he, 'I 
dare say we are all very much fatigued with this tedious trial. The prisoner 
at the bar has been well defended already ; but it is my duty to offer you 
some further observations in behalf of this unfortunate man. I shall aim at 
brevity. But should I take up more of your time than you expect, I hope 
you will hear me with patience, when you consider that blood is concerned." 
I cannot admit the possibility that any one who never heard Henry speak 
.should be made fully to conceive the force of impression which he gave to 
these few words, " blood is concerned." I had been on my feet through the 
day, pushed about in the crowd, and was excessively weary. I was strongly 
of opinion, too, notwithstanding all the previous defensive pleadings, that 
the prisoner was guilty of murder ; and I folt anxious to kno^v how the 
matter would terminate. Yet when Henry had uttered these words, my 
feelings underwent an instantaneous change ; I found everything within me 
answering at once, yes, since blood is concerned, in the name of all that is 
righteous, go on ; we will hear you with patience until the rising of to- 
morrow's sun. This bowing of the soul must have been universal ; for the 
profoiindest silence reigned, as if our very breath had been suspended. The 
spell of the magician was upon us, and we stood like statues around him. 
Under the touch of his genius, every particular of the story assumed a new 
aspect, and his cause became continually more bright and promising. At 
length ho arrived at the fatal act itself. ' You have been told, gentlemen, 
that the prisoner was bound by every obligation to avoid the sujiposed 
necessity of firing, by leaping behind a house near which he stood at that 
14 



212 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

moment. Had he been attacked with a club, or with stones, the argument 
would have been unanswerable, and I should feel myself compelled to gh'a 
up the defense in despair. But surely I need not tell you, gentlemen, how 
wide is the difference between sticks or stones, and double-triggered loaded 
rifles cocked at your hreast.' The eftect of this terrific image, exhibited in 
this great orator's peerless manner, cannot be described. I dare not attempt 
to delineate the paroxysm of emotion which it excited in every heart. The 
result of the whole was, that the prisoner was acquitted ; with the perfect 
approbation, I believe, of the numerous assembly who attended the trial. 
AVhat was it that gave such transcendent force to the eloquence of Henry ? 
His reasoning powers were good : but they have been equaled, and more 
than equaled, by those of many other men. His imagination was exceed- 
ingly quick, and commanded all the stores of nature as materials for illus- 
trating his subject. His voice and delivery wei'e inexpressibly happ_v. But 
his most irresistible charm was the vivid feeling of his cause with which he 
Bpoke. Suck feeling infallibly communicates itself to the breast of the 
hearer. 




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ACHIEVEMENTS 

OF THE 

AMERICAN TEMPERANCE REFORMERS. 

A HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



" What will you take to drink? " united to a significant toss of the 
head, and an unmistakable angular glance from the eye toward well filled 
decanters ; was a question and an action of almost universal occurrence in 
every house in our land, within the memorj- of many whose heads have 
not even yet become gray. 

And then came the step up to the sideboard ; the passing of the sugar- 
bowl and the water pitcher; the cranch and the whirl of the toddy sticlv in 
the tumbler; the decanting of the stimulant; the pause of anticipation as 
the glass was held momentarily in the hand ; succeeded by the raising of 
the same to the lips, with the usual accompaniments of crooked elbow, 
thrown back head, open mouth — all ending by the final smack of satis- 
faction, as the empty goblet was laid down to make its moist, round 
mark on the tray. 

The imbibing of alcoholic liquids was then general among the American 
people. They were considered a necessitj- of life ; a cert.iin panacea for all 
ills ; a crowning sheaf to all blessings : good in sickness and in health ; good 
in summer to dispel the heat, and in winter to dispel the cold ; good to 
help on work, and more than good to help on a frolic. So good were they 
considered that their attributed merits were fixed by pleasant names. The 
first dram of the morning was an "eye-opener;" duly followed by tho 
"eleven o'clocker," and the "foiir o'clocker;" while the verj' last was a 
"night-cap ;" after which as one laid himself in sheets, he was supposed to 
drink no more that day, unless, indeed, he was unexpectedly called up at 
night, when, of course, he prudently fortified himself against taking cold- 
Do n't imagine that these were all the drinlcs of the day — by no means. 
The decanter stood ready at all times on the sideboard ; if a friend had 
called, he had been welcomed by " the social glass ; " if one h.ad departed, 
a pleasant journey was tendered in "a flowing bumper;" if a bargain had 
been made, it was rounded by a liquid "clincher ; " if a wedding had come 
off, "a long and prosperous life" was drank to tho happy pair; if a funeral 
had ensued, then alcoholic mixtures were a source of " consolation in afflic- 
tion." Drinking all the way from tho cradle to the grave, seemed the 
grand rule. Dinah, the black nurse, as she swaddled tho new-born in- 
fant, took her dram ; and Uncle Bob, the aged gray-haired sexton, with tho 
weak and watery eyes, and bent, rheumatic body, soon as he had thrown tho 

r2i3i 



214 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

last spade full of earth upon the little mound over the remains of a fellow- 
mortal, turned to the neighboring bush, on which hung his green baize jacket, 
for a swig at the bottle ; after which he gathered up his tools, and slowly, 
and painfully hobbled homeward, to attend to his duties to the living. 
Everybody, even Congressmen, drank ; and, what is queer, no. one can fix 
the precise date at which they left off. The deacon drank, and it is said the 
parson, that good old man, after finishing a round of social visits, not unfre- 
quently returned to his own dwelling, so "mellowed" by the soothing in- 
fluences of the "cordial" welcomes of his parishioners, as to really feel that 
this was not such a very bad world after all. 

Before we enter upon the subject of this article, we wish to preface it 
with a few facts upon AkvlwI. 

Alcohol, as extracted from fermented liquor, was unknown to the world 
until about the year 1000. When this process was first accomplished in 
Arabia, no person knew what this product of distillation was ; nor was there 
any language that had for it even a name. They however called it Alco- 
hol ; and that is now the chemical name in every country. This word h.ad 
previously been used in Arabia as the name of a fine powder, which the 
ladies used to give a brilliance to their complexions. Alcohol was soon 
ascertained to be a poison, and no one then thought of using it as a drink. 
About the year 1230, it began to be used in the south of Europe, as a medi- 
cine, and from thence, its use gradually extended, for that purpose, over 
various parts of the civilized world. Judging from its immediate effects, 
it was thought to increase life ; and was denominated aqua vitaj, water of 
life. Theoriois, not long after, wrote a treatise upon its wonderful curative 
power ; in which he says, " It sloweth age, it strengthencth youth, it help- 
eth digestion, it cutteth flegme, it abandoneth melancholic, it relisheth the 
heart, it lighteneth the mind, it quickeneth the spirits, it cureth the hydrop- 
sia, it healeth the strangurie, it pounccth the stone, it expelleth gravell, 
it puffeth away ventositie, it keepeth and preserveth the head from whirl- 
ing, the eyes from dazzling, the tong from lisping, the mouth from snaffling, 
the teeth from chattering, and the throat from rattling ; it keepeth the 
weasan from stifliing, the stomach from wambling, and the heart from 
swelling ; it keepeth the hands from shivering, the sinews from shrinking, 
the veins from crumbling, the bones from aching, and the marrow from 
soaking." 

Such were sujiposed to be its wonderful virtues ; and many began to 
think they could not live without it. Ulstadius, another writer, ascribes to 
it this most singular praise ; he says, " It will bui-n, being kindled." And 
this he considers as demonstrative of its peculiar excellence. It was not 
therefore strange, with such views of its power as a medicine, that men 
should begin to conclude that it must also do good in health, especially 
when they were peculiarly exposed, and under severe labor ; nor that they 
should introduce the use of it for the purpose of preventing, as well as 
curing diseases. This was the cose, particularly in the mines in Hungary ; 
and afterward, in 1581, it was introduced by the English as a kind of cor- 
dial for their soldiers, while engaged in war in the Netherlands, and finally 
spread, as a common beverage, among all nations. 

No nation ever adopted its use without its producing an untold amount 



OF AMERICANS. 215 

of crime and woe, more fatal than the most malignant pestilence ; yet, until 
within a brief period, men -were blind to the evil, and constantly, everywhere, 
increased its use, under the idea that they were promoting their own bene- 
fit. Some of the reasons for this delusion, and the causes wlij- the quantity 
used was continually increasing, are given by an intelligent writer. " Such 
is the nature of alcohol, that its first efTect on the human system is a quick- 
ening of action ; animation, excitement. Tliis, by a fundamental law of our 
n.attire is a source of pleasure. Tliis jiresmt pleasure, men mistake for real 
good. It also arouses for a moment the reserved and dormant energies of 
the system, which are not needed, and were not designed for ordinary 
healthful action, but were intended for special emergencies ; and which can- 
not be drawn out and used, on ordinary occasions, without necessarily short- 
ening human life. This awakening of dormant energy, men mistake for 
an increase of real, permanent strength. 

The system, by this poison, having been over-excited, becomes deranged ; 
and having been over-worked, without any new strength communicated, it 
is of cour.so weakened, and therefore soon flags ; becomes tired, and is ex- 
hausted. Now, according to another fundamental law, there is pain, lan- 
guor, and inexpressible uneasiness spread through the system, as suffering 
nature under the awful abuse which has been practiced upon her, cries o>it 
for help. A man cannot thus chafe, irritate, and exhaust his system, and 
not afterward feel imeasiness, any more than he can put his hand into the 
fire and not feel pain. He violates a natural law, and must find the way of 
transgressors to be hard. Hence arise two motives to drink again. One is, 
to obtain the past pleasure, and the other is to remove the present pain, 
r.ut as the system is unstrung and partly worn out, and is also lower down 
than it was before, the same quantity will not, the next time, raise it up so 
high ; or cause the wearied organs to move so briskly. Of course it wiU 
not fully answer the purpose ; will not give so much present pleasure, or 
produce so much effect as before. Hence the motive to increase the quan- 
tity ; and for the same reason, in future, to increase it more, and still more. 
As every repetition increases the difiiciilty, and also throws new obstacles in 
the way of its removal, the temptation to increase the quantity, grows 
stronger and stronger. The natiiral life of the system constantly diminishes, 
and of course, in order to seem to live, what there is, must be more and more 
highly roused, till, in one half, one quarter, or one eighth of the proper time, 
the wliole is exhausted, and the man sinks prematurely to the grave. 

There is another principle which tends also strongly to the same result. 
The more any man partakes of this imnatural pleasure which alcohol occa- 
sions, the less susceptible he becomes of the natural and innocent pleasures, 
occasioned by the iise of nourishing food and drink; by the view and 
contemplation of the works of creation and providence : by the exercise 
of the social affections, and the discharge of the various duties of life. 

From the above, it is evident that the deranged and exhausted state of 
the system, from which the uneasiness, wdien not under the excitement of 
alcohol, springs, and which causes the hankering or thirst after the jioison, 
1.S not a natural state ; nor is that appetite a natural appetite. 

Such are some of the reasons why men who begin to drink alcohol, and 
receive from it nothing but injury, nevertheless, not only conluiue to drink 



210 AOVKNTUUES AND ACUTKVKMKN'TS 

il, Iml. Uuli'liik it in gre<xter anil grcalcr ^\\u\\\^\ty. Let us now consider how 
it causes doatli. Alcohol is n substunoo which is, in its nature, unfit for tho 
purposo of nutrition. It is not in tho power of tho animal economy to ile- 
composii it, anil change it into blood, or llosh, or bones, or anything by which 
the human body is, or can bo nourished, stron^lhoned, and supported. 
When taken into tho stomach, it is sucked up by absorbent vessels, and 
carried into tlio blood; and with that is circulated through the whole .sys- 
tem, and, (0 a certain extent, is then thrown off again. But it is alcohol 
when taken, it is alcohol in the stomach, it is alcohol in tho arteries, and 
veins, and heart, and lungs, and brain, and among all tho nerves, and tissues, 
and fibers of tho whole body, and it is alcohol when, after having pervaded 
and passed through tho whole system, it is thrown ofi" again. Give it even 
to a dog, and take tho blood from his foot, and distil it, and you have alco- 
hol, the same which the dog drank. Take tho blood from tho arm, tho 
foot, or tUo head, of the man wlio drink."! it, and distil that blood, and you have 
alcohol. You may take it from the brain, strong enough, on the appli<!atiou 
of fire, in an instant to blaze. Not a bloodvessel, however minute, not a 
thread of the smallest nerve in the whole animal machinery, escapes its infiu- 
enoo. It enters tho organs of the nursing mother, which prepare the delicate 
food (lir tho sustenance and growth of her child. It is taken into tho circu- 
lation, and passes through tho wholo system of the child ; having through 
its wholo course, produced, not only on tho mother, but also on tho child, 
the appropriate elTects of tho drunkard's poison. This is a reason, why, after 
tho mother h;\s taken it, tho babe, although before restless, sleeps all night 
like a drunkard ; and a reason, also, why such children, if they live, often 
have an appetite for spirit, and aro so much more likely than other children 
to become drunkards. This is a reason, also, why, when the parents have 
boon in the habit of freely taking it, their children are so much smaller, 
and loss healthy than other children ; have less keenness and strength of 
oyo-sight ; firmness of nerve, or ability of body and mind to withstand tho 
attacks of disease, and tho vicissitudes of climates, and seasons ; and also a 
reason why they have less inclination and less talent for great bodily, and 
mental achievements. By the operation of laws which no man can repeal, 
or withstand, tho iniipiities of the fathei'S aro thus naturally visited upon 
tho children, from generation to generation. 

Were the human body transparent, and the operations of its organs in 
sust;iining life, visible, every man might soo that nature itself, teaches that 
tho drinking of alcohol cannot be continued by a man without hastening 
his death. 

Tho recept.aclo for food is tho stomach and intestines. From these after 
being changed, first into chyme, and then into chyle, it is taken up by ab- 
sorbent vessels and carried into tho blood, and conveyed to tho right side of 
tho heart. Prom that it is sent to tho lungs ; and by coming into contact 
with tho air, and taking out of it what it needs, in or>ler, with what it ha.s 
to nourish the Ixidy, it is sent back again to the left side of the heart. From 
that, it is sent, in arteries or tubes, prepared for that purpose, to all parts of 
tho Iwdy, for tho purpose of carrying tho nourishment which it contains, 
and which each part needs, to its jiroper place. Along on the lines of these 
tubes or canals, through which tho blood with its treasure flows, is a vast 



OF AMEUICANS. 217 

Diiiltitudc of little organs, or waiter*, whose office is, each one to take out 
of the blood, as it cornels along, tliat kind and quantity of nourbihrnent 
which it needs for it« own Kuppiort, and also for the nupjKirt of that j;>art of 
the body v.-hich is committed to it« care. And although exceedingly 
minute and delicate, they are endowed by their Creator, with the wonderful 
power of doing thli, and aUo of attaining from, or expelling and throwing 
(Kick into the common ma«», what in unBuilable, or what they do not want, 
to be carried to some other place where it may be needed ; or, if it is not 
needed anywhere, and iis good for nothing, to be thrown out of the body as 
a nuiisancc. 

For instance, the organs placed at the end of the fingeni, when the blood 
comes there, take out of it what they nee*! for their Bup|x<rt, and ahio what 
u needed to make finger nails ; while they will cautiously al«tain from, 
or repel that which will only make hair, and let it go on to the head. 
And the organs on the head carefully take out that which they need for 
their Dupport and also that which will made hair, or, in common language, 
cause it to grow ; while they will cautiouiily abstain from that which ijf 
good for nothing, except to make eye-lrall,-?, and let it go in i\it; eyes, and 
even help it on. And the organs about the eye, will take that and w^ork it 
up into eyes, or cause them to grow. And so throughout the whole. And 
there is among all the millions and millions of these workers, day and 
night, all diligent in business, the most entire and everlasting harmony. 
And there is also the most delicate and wonderful sympathy. If one mem- 
ber suffer, all the meml>ers instinctively suffer with it ; and if one member 
rejoice, all the members rejoice with it. 

And when the blood has gotten out to the extremities, and been to all 
parts of the system, and left its treasures along on the way, ae they were 
hteAoA, for freely it has received and freely it gives ; then there is another 
set of tubes, or channels, prepared to take the blood, and with it what wa» 
not needed, or was good for nothing, or had been used till it was worn out, 
back to the right side of the heart. From this it is sent again with its load 
to the lungs, for the purpose, by expiration, of throwing off what is not 
needed, and what, if retained, would only Vxi a burden and do mischief; 
and also, by inspiration, of taking in a nev/ store, and setting out again on 
its journey around the system. And to give it good speed, the heart, like 
a steam engine, worked, not by fires which men can kindle, but by the 
breath of the Almighty, keeps constantly moving, day and night, summer 
and winter, through storms and sunshine, sickness and health, as long as 
life doth last. 

All the orgarxs of the human body have as much work to do, as is consis- 
tent with permanently healthful action, and with the long'jst continuance of 
human life, when men take nothing l/ut suitable food and drink. And if, 
in addition to this, you tike alcohol, and thus throw uijiju them the addi- 
tional labor of rejecting and throwing off the poison, and at the same time, 
as by the taking of it you certainly will, v/caken and exhaust their energies, 
you necessarily shorten their duration, and commit suicide as really as if 
you did it with arsenic, a pistol, or a halter. It alao greatly increases tW 
violence of diseases which arise from other causes, and often produces death, 
in case* in which, had not alcohol been u»ed, a cure might have been easily 



21S ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

and speedily effected. Nor is this all. There is another set of organs, the 
rierves, whose office is to furnish sensibility to the human system. For 
this purpose they are spread over the surflice of the whole body, and in 
such vast numbers and variety, that you cannot stick into the skin, the point 
even of the finest needle, and not strike some of them, and thus occasion 
pain. They seem to form the link between the body and the mind, and to 
be the medium through which each reciprocally and instantly acts upon 
the other. Of course whatever affects them, affects not only the body but 
also the soul, .and the influence which one has upon the other. 

Their seat is the brain. From this they derive excitement, and power to 
communicate it to all parts of the system. And in order to furnish this ex- 
citement, the brain itself must be excited. And what it needs for this pur- 
pose, is that, and that only, which is furnished by arterial blood, when men 
take nothing but suitable food, .and drink, exercise, rest, and sleep. For 
this excitement it eagerly waits, and this it joyfully receives ; and cheer- 
fully, with the rapidity almost of lightning, communicates to every part, 
spreading a glow of animation, and making even existence a source of con- 
stant and exquisite delight. But as it stands waiting to receive, and in- 
stantly and joyfully to communicate, the bread and the milk of Heaven, 
you throw in alcohol, and thus instead of bread, give it serpents ; instead of 
milk, scorpions ; and they go hissing and darting their serpent, scorpion-like 
influence through the whole man, body and soul ; turning husbands into 
demons, and fathers into fiends. 

Finally alcohol so affects the understanding that moral considerations arc 
1-ess clearly perceived ; and it so aflects the heart, that moral obligation is 
less powerfulty felt. It causes the conscience to lie more dormant, and the 
im.agination to be more extensively and deeply polluted, and polluting. It 
corrupts the very source and springs of moral action, and brings a man pe- 
culiarly, in all respects, under the power of the devil. Mental iniquity, 
from which the mind, when not poisoned, instinctively recoils, becomes, 
when it is, the element of its delicious revel ; and crimes, from the 
thought of which it before started back with abhorrence, it now commits 
with greediness." 

The business of distillation first commenced in our country at Boston, 
about the year 1700, when West India molasses was converted into New 
England rum. In 1794, distilleries, chiefly for grain, had become numerous in 
the United States, especially in Western Pennsylvania, a rich grain-growing 
region. In 1815, the number of distilleries had increased to forty thousand, 
cxjnsuming, in successive years, more than ten million bushels of bread-stuQs, 
and pouring over the land more than thirty millions of gallons of ardent 
spirits distilled from grain, and more than ten million gallons distilled from 
molasses. 

With the mass of the population, distilleries were a long time considered 
a btes,<ing to the country. They furnished, it w.as said, a ready market for 
the surplus grain ; they gave a new value to the orchard, whose superabun- 
dant fruit could at once be converted into brandy ; they brought ready 
employ to the carpenter, the cooper, the carrier, and furnished the nation 
with an excellent article, which it was importing from Holland and the 
West Indies at great cost. Pious men, deacons of churches, owned and 



OF AMERICANS. 219 

labored in them, withoul loss of character. Many a neighborhood was 
filled with joy th.at an immense distillery was to be built, and a spring 
given to business which would bring riches to every family." 

Ardent spirits, for other than medicinal purposes, were not used in the 
early settlement of our country. This fatal error that they were useful for 
men in health, did not prevail among the mass of our people until after the 
American Revolution. Spirituous liquors were furnished to the array by 
government, under the fatal delusion that they were of service in mitifatinij- 
the hardships to which the soldiers were subject. The consequence was, 
that at the close of the war, they were carried into the community, and ex- 
tended through the country. From habits of intemperance formed during 
the war, very many of the soldiers became wandering vagabonds, so that, for 
a generation after, if a miserable drunken beggar stopped at one's door, he 
was often alluded to as an " old soldier." 

At the close of the first half centur}' of our national existence, viz : bv 
the year 1826, this diseased appetite had become so prevalent as to demand, 
annually, for its gratification, more than sixty millions of gallon.s of spiritu- 
ous liquors. 

Notv/ithstanding the general indifference to the mass of evils arising 
frotd this source, a few clear sighted and benevolent individuals, from 
time to time, ventured to give to the world their opinions and expe- 
riences on the subject. Beside these, there were remarkable examples of 
literary and scientific names, of the highest authority, in favor of abstaining 
from all stimulating drinks : among whom it is sufficient to name Sir 
Isaac Newton, Milton, Locke, Dr. Johnson, the philanthropic Howard, 
with the venerable John Wesley, who not only abstained himself, but 
made it a condition of membership in his church, that all who belonged to 
it should abstain from either using, making, traflScking, or dealing in spirit- 
uous liquors. 

In 1813, years before the great Temperance Reform, an association was 
formed in Boston, under the name of " The Massachusetts Society for the 
Suppression of Intemperance." The object, as expressed in the constitution, 
was, " To discountenance the too free use of ardent spirits, and its kindred 
vices, profanoncss and gaming, and to encourage and promote temperance 
and general morality." As this society allowed the use of ardent spirits as 
a beverage, it was of no avail as a temperance society. 

It was then the general impression, that ardent spirits, if not absolutely ne- 
cessary, were at least of great use and importance as a support during labor ; 
and that, moderately used, they were an innocent stimulus. So deceived were 
the community, that the trade was thought to be proper. It was licensed 
by government, and sanctioned by the Christian churches. The crimes and 
misery arising from alcoholic drinks, were attributed to the nhuse of what was 
considered, in itself, moderately used, beneficial to man. The great dis- 
covery at length came forth like the light of a new day, that the temperate 
members of society, were the chief agents in promoting and perpetuating 
intemperance. And it was perfectly evident that unless a new movement 
could be started, on a new plan, and one which should be equal in time and 
place with the evil — one which should strike at the root and exterminate 
it — drunkenness would alwavs continue. At length associated effort was 



220 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

brought to bear upon the torrent of evil, and " The Pledge," the great 
instrument of reform, came into use. 

The first Temperance Pledge of which we have any knowledge (at least 
in modern times), was one drawn tip by Micajah Pendleton, of Nelson 
County, Virginia, in the year 1800. It was designed only for his own 
family, and was a total abstinence pledge. Through his influence, other 
families in Virginia, adopted the same in their households. The first Tern- 
perance Society, was organized in Mureau, Saratoga County, New York, in 
the year 1808. The pledge and constitution were prepared, and the move- 
ment inaugurated by Dr. Billy J. Clark, and the Rev. Lebbeus Armstrong. 
Forty-seven male members signed the pledge, and organized the society, 
called " the Moreau and Northumberland Temperance Society." The fourth 
article of their constitution, provided that no member should drink rum, 
gin, whisky, wine, or any distilled spirits. A fine of twenty-five cents was 
imposed for every violation of the pledge. The Rev. Lebbeus Armstrong 
delivered the address at their first quarterly meeting. In 1810, this society 
sent out one thousand circulars giving an account of the rise, progress, and 
objects of their body ; transmitting many of them to eminent gentlemen in 
Europe. 

The first general movement in the cause, was in 1811, when Dr. Rush, of 
Philadelphia, presented printed copies of his "Inquiry," to the members of 
the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, in session there. A 
committee was appointed on the subject, and the initiatory steps taken to 
pervade the w-hole land with a feeling of alarm, at the prevalence of intem- 
perance. But years elapsed before the public mind was sufficiently enlight- 
ened to embrace the great idea.. 

In 1825, the Rev. Dr. Justin Edwards wrote an essay entitled, " The Well 
Conducted Farm," exhibiting the result of an experiment ujion an exten- 
.sive farming establishment, in Worcester County, Massachusetts, which 
showing the great superiority of labor without alcoholic stimulants, pro- 
duced a strong impression on the public mind. The next year, the Amer- 
ican Temperance Society was formed at Boston, and on the principle of 
"the pledge," the invention of Micajah Pendleton, twenty-six years pre- 
viously. 

Among the most powerful of the early advocates of the reformation, 
were Rev. Mr. Hewitt, Dr. Lyman Beecher, Dr. Edwards, E. C. Delavan, 
Theodore Frelinghuysen, Dr. Channing, and numerous others, who, by ser- 
mons, tracts, public meetings, and periodicals, spread their views far and 
wide throughout the country. 

The sermons of Dr. Beecher, exerted a powerful influence in helping on 
the cause in this early day. In one of these, he says, " Can we lawfully 
amass property by a course of trade which fills the land with beggars, and 
widows, and orphans, and crimes ; which peoples the graveyard with pre- 
mature mortality, and the world of woe, with the victims of despair? 
Could all the forms of evil produced in the land by intemperance come 
upon us in one horrid array, it would appall the nation, and put an end to 
the trafSo in ardent spirits. If in every dwelling built by blood, the stone 
from the wall should utter all the cries which the bloody traffic extorts, and 
the beam out of the timber should echo them back, who would build 



OF AMERICAXd. 221 

such a house? and who would dwell in it? What if, in every part of the 
dwelling, from the cellar upward, through all the halls and chambers, bab- 
blings, and contentions, and voices, and groans, and shrieks, and waitings 
were heard day and night? What if the cold blood oozed out, and stood in 
drops upon the walls, and, by preternatural art, all the ghastly skulls and 
bones of the victims destroyed by intemperance, should stand upon the 
walls, in horrid sculpture, within and without the building — who would 
rear such a building? What if, at eventide, and at midnight, the airy fonr.s 
of men destroyed by intemperance, were dimly seen haunting the distil- 
leries and stores where they received their bane — following the track of the 
ship engaged in the commerce — walking upon the waves — flitting athwart 
the deck — sitting upon the rigging — and sending up from the hold within, 
and from the waves without, groans, and loud laments, and waitings ! 
Who would attend such stores? Who would labor in such distilleries? 
Who would navigate such ships? 

! were the sky over our heads one great whispering gallery, bringing 
down about us all the lamentation and woe which intemperance creates, 
and the firm earth one sonorous medium of sound, bringing up around 
us, from beneath, the waitings of the damned, whom the commerce in ar- 
dent spirits had sent thither ; these tremendous realities, assailing our sense, 
would invigorate our conscience, and give decision to our purpose of refor- 
mation. But these evils are as real as if the stone did cry out of the wall, 
and the beam answered it ; as real as if, day and night, waitings were heard 
in every part of the dwelling, and blood and skeletons were seen upon 
every wall ; as real as if the ghostly forms of departed victims flitted about 
the ship as she passed over the billows, and showed themselves nightly 
about stores and distilleries, and with unearthly voices, screamed in our ears 
their loud lament. They are as real as if the sky over our heads collected 
and brought down about us all the notes of sorrow in the land ; and the 
firm earth should open a passage for the waitings of despair to come up 
from beneath." 

A little later in the history of the reformation, when many good men 
still clung to the belief that the moderate use of ardent spirits was proper, 
a public speaker of the time thus sang the praises of alcohol. 

"It is a pleasant cordial; a cheerful restorative; the first friend of tho 
infant; the support of the enfeebled mother ; a sweet luxury given by the 
parent to the child ; the universal token of kindness, friendship, and hospi- 
tality. It adorns the sideboards and tables of the rich, and enlivens the 
social circles of the poor ; goes with the laborer as his mo?t cheering com- 
panion ; accompanies the mariner in his long and dreary voyage ; enlivens 
the carpenter, the mason, the blacksmith, the joiner, as they ply their trade ; 
follows the merchant to his counter, the physician to his infected rooms, the 
lawyer to his ofRce, and the divine to his study, cheering all and comforting 
all. It is the life of our trainings, and town-meetings, and elections, and 
bees, and raisings, and "harvests, and sleighing parties. It is the best domes- 
tic medicine, good for a cold and a cough, for pain in the stomach and 
weakness in the limbs, loss of appetite and rheumatism, and is a great sup- 
port in old age. It makes a market for our rye and apples; sustains one 



222 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

hundred thousand famiUes who are distilling and vending, and pours annu- 
ally millions of dollars into our national treasury." 

This public speaker was the Rev. John Marsh. He was using the argu- 
ments of the friends of moderate drinking, only the more effectually to 
present a mass of statistics and facts which the industry of those of tem- 
perance had collected. As they are given in a vivid manner, we quote 
them below: 

"Look, my countrymen, at the ravages of intemperance. Fix your eye 
on its waste of property. 

At the lowest calculation, it has annually despoiled us of a hundred 
millions of dollars — of thirty millions for an article which is nothing worth, 
and seventy or eighty millions more to compensate for the mischiefs that 
article has done — money enough to accomplish all that the warmest patriot 
could wish for his country, and to fill, in a short period, the world with 
Bibles, and a preached Gospel. What farmer would not be roused, should 
a wild beast come once a year into his borders and destroy the best cow in 
his farmyard? But six and a fourth cents a day for ardent spirits, wastes 
twenty-two dollars eighty-one cents a year, and in forty years nearly one 
thousand dollars, which is a thousand times as much as scores of drunkards 
are worth at their burial. 

See the pauperism it has produced. We have sung of our goodly heri- 
tage, and foreign nations have disgorged their exuberant population that 
they might freely subsist in this land of plenty. But in this granary of the 
world are everywhere seen houses without windows, fields without tillage, 
barns without roofs, children without clothing, and penitentiaries and alms- 
houses filled to overflowing ; and a traveler might write — beggabs made 
HERE. We are groaning under our pauperism, and talking of taxes, and 
hard times, and no trade ; but intemperance has stalked through our land 
and devoured our substance. It has entered the houses of our unsuspecting 
inhabitants as a friend, and taken the food from their tables,- and the 
clothing from their beds, and the fuel from their fire, and turned their lands 
over to others, and drove them from their dwellings to subsist on beggary 
and crime, or drag out a miserable existence in penitentiaries and alms- 
houses. Two thirds, or one hundred and fifty thousand, of the wretched 
tenants of these abodes of poverty in the United States, were reduced by 
intemperance. So themselves confess. It was rum, brandy, and whisky, 
that did it. And the Prison Discipline report tells of fifty thousand cases 
of imprisonment for debt annually in the United States, in consequence of 
the use of ardent spirits. 0, its sweeps of property can never be known ! 
Look at the crime it has occasioned. 

It is said that there is a spring in China which makes every man that 
drinks it a villain. Eastern tales are founded on some plain matter of fact. 
This spring may be some distillery or dram-shop ; for this is the natural 
effect of alcohol. It breaks down the conscience, quickens the circulation, 
increases the courage, makes man flout at law and right, and hurries him to 
the perpetrarion of every abomination and crime. Excite a man by this 
fluid, and he is bad enough for anything. He can lie, and steal, and fight, 
and swear, and plunge the dagger into the bosom of his nearest friend. No 
vice is too filthv no crime too tragical for the drunkard. The records of 



OF AMERICANS. 223 

our courts tell of acts, committed under the influence of rum, wliioli curdle 
the blood in our veins. Husbands butcher their wives ; children slaughter 
their parents. Far the greater part of the atrocities committed in our land, 
proceed from its maddening power. 'I declare, in this public manner, and 
with the most solemn regard to truth,' said Judge Bush, some years ago^ 
in a charge to a grand jury, ' that I do not recollect an instance since my 
being concerned in the administration of justice, of a single person being 
put on his trial for manslaughter, which did not originate in drunkenness ; 
.ind but few instances of trial for murder, where the crime did not spring 
from the same unhappy cause.' Of eight hundred and ninety-five coni- 
plaints presented to the police court in Boston in one j'ear, four linn(' ed 
were under the statute against common drunkards. Of one thousand and 
sixty-one cases of criminal prosecution in a court in North Carolina, more 
than eight hundred proceeded from intemperance. Five thousand com- 
plaints are made yearly in New York to the city police, of outrages com- 
mitted by intoxicated persons ; and the late city attorney reports, that, of 
twenty-two cases of murder which it had been his duty to examine, 
every one of them had been committed in consequence of intemperate 
drinking. 'Nine-tenths of all the prisoners under my care,' says Captain 
Pillsbury, warden of the Connecticut state prison, 'are decidedly intempe- 
I'ate men, and were brought to their present condition, directly or indirectly, 
through intoxicating liquor. Many have confessed to mo with tears, that 
they never felt tempted to the commission of crime, thus punishable, but 
when under the influence of strong drink.' And the Prison Discipline re- 
port states, 'that of one hundred and twenty-five thousand criminals com- 
mitted to our prisons in a single year, ninety-three thousand seven hundred 
and fifty were excited to their commission of crime by spirituous liquors.' 
Look at its destruction of intellect. 

It reduces man to a beast, to a fool, to a devil. The excessive drinker 
first becomes stupid, then idiotic, then a maniac. Men of the finest geniuses, 
most acute minds, and profound learning, have dwindled under the touch 
of this withering demon to the merest insignificance, and been hooted by 
boys for their silly speeches, and silly actions, or chained in a madhouse as 
unsafe in society. Of eighty-seven admitted into the New York hospital 
in one year, the insanity of twenty-seven w.as occasioned by ardent spirits ; 
and the physicians of the Pennsylvania hospital, report that one third of the 
insane of that institution were ruined by intemperance. What if one sixth 
of our maniacs were deprived of their reason by the bite f f the dogs, tho 
friendly inmates of our houses, or by some vegetable common on our tables ; 
who would harbor the dangerous animal, or taste the poisonous vegetable? 
But one third of our maniacs are deranged by alcohol. Indeed, every 
drunkard is in a temporary delirium ; and no man who takes even a little 
into bis system, possesses that sound judgment, or is capable of that patient 
investigation, or intellectual effort, whir h would be his without it. Just in 
proportion as man comes under its ir.iiuence, he approximates to idiotisra 
or madness. 

Look at its waste of health and life. 

The worm of the still never touches the brute creation, but, as if the 
most venomous of all beings, it seizes the noblest prey. It bites man : 



22i ADVENTURES AND ACrilEVEMEXTS 

and where it once leaves its subtle poison, farewell to health — farewell to 
long life. The door is open, and in rush dyspepsia, jaundice, dropsy, gout, 
obstructions of the liver, epilepsy — the deadliest plagues let loose on fallen 
man — all terminating in delirium tremens or mania a potu, a prelude to the 
eternal buffetings of foul spirits in the world of despair. One out of every 
forty, or three hundred thousand of our population have taken up their 
abode in the lazar-house of drunkenness, and thirty thousand die annually 
the death of the drankard. These sweeps of death mock all the ravages of 
war, famine, pestilence, and shipwreck. The yellow fever in Philadelphia, 
in 1793, felt to be one of the greatest curses of heaven, destroyed but four 
thousand. In our last war with Great Britain, the sword devoured but five 
hundred a year; intemperance destroys two hundred a week. Shipwrecks 
destro)' suddenly, and the country groans when forty or fifty human beings 
are suddenly engulfed in the ocean ; but more than half of all the sudden 
deaths occur in fits of intoxication. It needed not a fable to award the 
prize of greatest Ingenuity in malice and murder to the demon who in- 
vented brandy, over the demon who invented war. 

And look at its waste of human happiness. 

Yes, look — look for yourselves. The woes of drunkenness mock all 
description. Some tell of the happiness of drinking. 0, if there is a 
wretched being on earth, it is the drunkard. His property wasted, his char- 
actor gone, his body loathsome, his passions wild, his appetite craving the 
poison that kills him, his hopes of immortality blasted forever; it is all 

' Me miserable, 
Whieh way I fly is hell, myself am hell.' 

And his family. 1 can never look at it but with feelings of deepest an- 
guish. 

'Domestic Iiappiue-ss, thoa only bliss 
Of Paradise that bast escaped the fall," 

thou art shipwrecked here. Sorrow, woe, wounds, poverty, babblings, and 
contention, have entered in and dwell here. Yet we have three hundred 
thousand such families in the land ; and if each family consists of four in- 
dividuals, more than a million persons are here made wretched by this 
curse of curses." 

The Temperance Reformation progressed beyond the expectations of the 
most sanguine. In six yeai-s from the commencement of the reform, viz : 
in 1832, there were, in the United States, over four thouaand temperance 
societies, with over half a million of members ; one thousand five hundred 
distilleries had ceased distilling, and four thousand merchants had ceased to 
traffic in the poison. It was also estimated that a million and a half of 
persons had abstained from the use of ardent spirits, and that twenty 
thousand families were in ease and comfort, which otherwise would have 
been in poverty or cursed with a drunken inmate. 

A year later these statistics had nearly doubled, and it was estimated that 
there were seven hundred vessels afloat on the ocean, in which ardent spirits 
were not used. This year, the American Congressional Temperance 
Societv, was formed at Washington, with Hon. Lewis Cass, Secretary of War, 



OF AMERICANS. 225 

us president. A few mouths previously the issue of ardent spirits to tlic 
iirmy had been prohibited. The United States Temperance Convention 
met in Philadelphia, in May 1833. Seldom had a body of men assembled 
of greater weight of character, and of higher and bettor influence in the 
country'. It was composed of over four hundred delegates, and from 
twenty-one States. It strikes us as singular, as showing how little progress 
had then been made in the views of the friends of temperance, that they 
should have "a long and animated debate," upon a resolution "which ex- 
pressed the sentiment, that the traffic in ardent spirits to be used as a bev- 
rage, is morally wrong, and ought to be universally abandoned." It was 
" passed after a long and animated discussion ; " and, saj's a writer of the 
time, " had the convention done nothing else, but after examination ex- 
pressed their opinion on this point, they had done a deed which would 
have marked them as benefactors of their country." 

Up to this period, and for a year or two later, all the temperance societies 
had been organized on the principle of the voluntary pledge, which inter- 
dicted the use of distilled liquors as a beverage. It allowed the use of wine, 
cider, and malt liquors. Thus the reform stood until a society in Lancashire, 
England, perceiving the defect of what is now called the old pledge, adopted 
what was named the tee-total principle — total abstinence from all Tcinds of 
intoxicating beverages. The word tee, is one of the provincialisms of Lan- 
cashire, signifying there the same as "going the whole figure " signifies 
here. A member at one of their meetings said, " Wo must have a tee-to- 
tal abstinence from every kind of drink that will produce drunkenness, if 
we wish to get rid of drunkenness itself;" and from this circumstance 
came the word. 

This idea, once started, soon became the basis on which the reform was 
conducted, and in the year 1834, many of our societies changed the words 
of their pledge from "ardent spirits," to "intoxicating liquors." In 1835, it 
was adopted by the American Temperance Society. In 1836, the American 
Temperance Union was formed, on the principle of total abstinence ; since 
which period it has been the leading society of the land. The pledge of 
the Union is : 

" We, the undersigned, do agree that we will not use intoxica- 
ting LIQUORS AS A BEVERAGE, NOR TRAFFIC IN THEM ; THAT WE WILL NOT 
PROVIDE THEM AS AN ARTICLE OF ENTERTAINMENT, OR FOR PERSONS IN OUU 
EMPLOYMENT, AND THAT, IN ALL SUITABLE WAYS, WE WILL DISCOUNTE- 
NANCE TEEIR USE THROUGHOUT THE COMMUNITY." 

Tha tee-*otal pledg-i met at firit with much opposition, and, in many casei, 
from those w-ho had been very active in their advocacy of the old pledge. 
The principle, however, eventually overcame opposition to such a degree, 
that every temperance society in the land adopted it. 

We present the arguments for and objections to total abstinence as given 
by a writer of the time. 

"To the adoption of this pledge, one objection offered, was, that temper- 
ance men, having signed the former pledge, would, as light shone and duty 
was manifest, become right in their practice ; but it was found that all did 
not become right, and that such as did not, hung as a millstone npoii the 
Ciiuse; that by their use of wine, beer, and cider, they exposed the cause to 



226 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

repro.icli, themselves to intemperance, and kept the miserable Inebriate in 
his drunkenness. 

Another was, that it was not necessary to accomplish the dosii'ed result. 
But it was found that it was necessary ; that the yeomanry of the country 
would not give up their rum and whisky, while temperance men in the 
higher ranks drank wine ; that no drunkard could be reformed and saved, 
except on the principle of total abstinence from all that intoxicates ; and 
that the mass of young men in the higher walks of life, in colleges, in 
counting-houses, in the learned professions, who became druid<ards, became 
so on wine, and not on distilled spirits. 

Another was, that it destroyed the simplicity of the obligation under 
which temperance men had acted with great harmony and success. But 
the pledge of total abstinence from all that intoxicates is a much more 
simple pledge ; far more intelligible, and one, as experience has 25roved, under 
which all who will, may gather with much greater harmony and success. 

Another was, that there is no call for such banishment of wine, beer, and 
the like, from society, as there is for the banishment of distilled spirits. 
But alcohol is in all fermented liquors, producing the same effects in kind 
in the system as when separated by the process of distillation. Nearly all 
the wines of commerce are brandied ; and much of the foreign wine, and 
wines of home manufacture, are nothing but distilled spirits and drugs. 
Burton ale, according to Brande's table, has eight per cent, of alcohol, the 
intoxicating principle; cider, ten ; Champagne wine, eighteen; Sherry, 
nineteen ; Madeira, twenty-four ; Port, twenty-three ; Lissa, twenty-six ; 
one-half of what is found in whisky, gin, rum, and brandy ; while beer, 
prepared as it often is bj' nux vomica, cocculus indicus, and grains of para- 
dise, is little behind the strongest drinks in its fatal tendency. For five 
thousand years, wine was the great source of drunkenness among the nations ; 
and who can deny that there was an amount of the horrid vice, under 
various forms, far exceeding all human conception. 

Another was, that it was? at variance with the permission of the sacred 
volume to drink wine, and subversive of a divine ordinance. But it had 
no relation to a divine ordinance, being only a pledge to abstain from all 
intoxicating drink, as a beverage ; to which every man has a right, even 
though there were a permission to use it. No command of God makes it 
a duty to eat flesh, though it is permitted. And hence Paul was at liberty 
to say, " It is good neither to eat flesh nor to drink wine, nor anything 
whereby thy brother stumbleth ; " nor in so abstaining would ho reproach 
the Saviour, or subvert a divine ordinance. 

Another was, that it was altogether impracticable. But it has been 
found to be not at all impracticable, but to be far easier gaining signatures to 
the pledge of entire abstinence from all that intoxicates, than it was origin- 
ally to the pledge from ardent spirits. 

Another was, that it would throw off from the temperance ranks the 
higher classes, he would not give up their wine ; and the farmers who 
would not yield their cider. But it was found that many of the higher 
classes were glad of a change in the habits of society, which would save 
their sons from ruin ; and that such farmers as had ceased using ardent 
spirits, did not want to be burned up with cider, ancf rejoiced in a change 



OP AMERICANS. 227 

which saved them groat toil, without profit, in the autumnal season ; and 
scenes of riot and drunkenness in their households, during the long even- 
ings of winter. 

Another was, that it would create a division in the temperance ranks, and 
destroy all activity. But if it has created a division, it has divided men 
who are resolved to extirpate drunkenness from the earth, cost what it 
may, from such as plead for a little self-indulgence, and who, by that indul- 
gence, are palsied in their efforts ; and, instead of ruining the cause, it has 
raised up an army who are rushing on to victory." 

The discussion of the total abstinence pledge, included, also, what was 
called, in the popular language of the day, " the wine question." The 
Hon. Theodore Frclinghuysen, was among the most judicious in his advo- 
cacy of the new principle. 

"The great principle." said he, "contended for, is the moral expediency 
of this pure standard. Let it be granted that men may lawfully drink 
wine ; that in Palestine where grapes hung upon the boughs in the greatest 
profusion, men did drink wine ; that our Saviour himself drank wine, and 
sanctioned it by his example; yet how different are the circumstances in 
which we find ourselves at this day. Then there was no such thing as ar- 
dent spirits, by which men were brutalized and destroyed, both body and 
soul ; and it might not have been necessary then to abstain from that which in 
our d.ay we look upon as a temptation and a snare, leading men directly to 
intemperance. But now the case presents itself to us in this light. A great 
moral power which may be exercised to promote the welfare of our fellow 
men, is oiTured to us in this total abstinence principle. In a spirit of benig- 
nant feeling toward our race, we adopt it. We abstain from that which we 
might use lawfully and without injury to Ourselves, hoping, thereby, by our 
example, to benefit others." 

At a later time he said, " Let example plead for the sake of a bleeding 
world. One says, ' I am not responsible, I am temperate, I drink moderately. 
If others drink to excess, I am not responsible for their conduct.' That 
principle never had its origin in the word of God, or in a generous bosom. 
There is not an individual who hears me, whose example is not going forth 
and influencing others, for good or ill. When we meet in the judgment, 
one of the first matters that will come up there will be the influence 
which our example has exerted upon others. And, when the subject of 
v/ino comes up here, how will the precepts of the gospel lead mo to dispose 
of it? If my example is in danger of leading others astray, I must aban- 
don it ; for ' it is good neither to eat flesh nor driiilc wine, nor anything 
wherob}- thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak.' " 

" The fact," says another, " that our Lord, by a miracle, produced wine ivt 
the marriage of Cana, in Galilee, is urged as an invincible argument against 
total abstinence from alcoholic drinks. But this, like every other reason of 
the kind, is based upon the groundless assumption, that the term tvint 
.always refers to the same kind of intoxic;iting drink ; whereas, history, 
science, and even modern usage, show that such a conclusion is altogether 
false. Among the Jews, Greeks, and Romans, there were various descrijj- 
tions of wines. There were the dmggcd, fermented, and poisonons wines, 
injurious to the bodies, and stnpefving to the minds of those who drank 
15 



228 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

them ; and there were also the sweet, delicious, mitvient, ov delightfully 
acid wines, which would delight and please every palate, would nourish 
the frame, quench thirst, refresh and cool the weary, and injure no one. 
Now, we ask the reader to judge, which of the two the benevolent Re- 
deemer was most likely to produce? 

" In Greece, Rome, and Palestine, it was customary to boil down their 
wines into a kind of syrup. Columella, Plinj', and other Roman writers, 
tell us that in Italy and Greece it was common to boil their wines. Theso 
liquors must have been syrups, and every chemist knows that if they 
were thick syrups, they could not have undergone the process of the vinous 
fermentation. The practice of evaporating the juice of the grape, must 
have been adopted by the Jews in Palestine, as a wise precaution against 
the heat of the country, for by this operation a considerable portion of the, 
water was boiled away, the solid and saccharine substances of the grapo 
were brought into a thicker consistence, and the acetous fermentation pre- 
vented. This historical fact respecting the boiling of grape juice, furnishes 
us with proof that the wines of Palestine were not alcoholic, or did not 
obtain their inebriating power from vinous fermentation. Yet it is not 
intended to affirm that thy were all destitute of an intoxicating principle. 
Otlier substances beside alcohol possess inebriating and stupefying, or mad- 
dening properties. In the sacred volume, we have several allusions to 
such medicine or deleterious drugs. In Ps;rln"i Ix. 3, we read of "the wine 
of astonishment or giddiness ; " Ixxv, 8, of wine, " red, and full of mixture." 
Is. li, 17, mentions the " cup of trembling and giddiness." In Prov. xxiii, 
30, we read of those who go to "seek mixed wine." The wine mentioned 
Prov. xxxi, 4-7, was a soporific drink. The wine mixed with myrrh and 
gall, or a species of laudanum, offered to our Lord, was i';tended to produce 
stupefaction, and therefore he would not drink." 

The next question that came up was the propriety of granting licenses to 
;ell ardent spirits. Laws of thi.s kind had been in force from the early set- 
tlement of the country. The first license law of Massachusetts was passed 
in 1646. In April, 1838, the legislature of that State passed, by a ma- 
jority of more than two thirds, what was termed the "fifteen gallon law." 
It forbade the retailing of any spirituous liquors, under a penalty of twenty 
dollars, excepting by apothecaries and physicians, specially licensed, and 
they were not permitted to sell in a less quantity than fifteen gallons. The 
sales were only to be made for use in the arts, or for medicinal purposes ; 
and none were to be drank on the premises where sold. The legislatures of 
Tennessee, Connecticut, Rhode Island, .and New Hampshire, also passed 
laws designed to more closel}' restrict, and in some cases to prevent entirely, 
the sale of ardent spirits, to be used as a beverage. Up to this period, the 
friends of temperance had relied for success, upon an appeal to the moral 
sense of the community — to "moral suasion." What was the practical an- 
swer to this, on the part of the manufacturers and dealere in ardent spirits? 
" Pooh ! " said they, " we have millions upon millions of money invested in 
our trade, which yields us a handsome profit ; and do you think your 
whining and weeping, can induce us to abandon this trade? Your son.<!, 
fathers, and husbands are not obliged to drink. If they will drink what is 
that to us? Mind vour own business." 



OF AMEUICAXS. 229 

Coercion, or " leg;'! suasion," then failed to accomplish tha desired ends. 
First came secret evasion, and then open violation of these laws, until th'^y 
wore either repealed or remained a dead letter on the statute books. 

An incident which occurred at a general militia muster somewhere in 
Massachusetts, gained considerable notoriety at the time, as an amusing 
evasion of the fifteen gallon law. On a tent at the ground, was a show bill 
as below : 




GREAT CUSIOSITT. 



THE STRIPED PIG. 
♦ 

dti/' To be seen Jiere — Admittance 6^^ cts. 



Crowds flocked to see the wonder, and what was curious to the unini- 
tiated, many were not contented with a single visit, but made repeated calls 
in the course of the day — often taking their friends with them — and as they 
came out, were in a jovial humor ; some of them at length showed such an 
uproarious hilarity, as to draw the attention of the authorities to the spot. 
On entering, they found a common white pig painted in black stripes, zebra 
like: near him stood a table well provided with Xew England rum, brandy, 
gin, etc., 71-hich the owner of the show had provided, at his own expense, 
for the refreshment of the curiosity-seekers. There being no law in Massa- 
chusetts against exhibiting a common pig daubed with black paint, nor none 
against giving away alcoholic stimulants, the exhibitor suffered no harm ; 
indeed, he was said by some to have brought his pig to a good market. 

The political campaign of 1840, sometimes called " the Hard Cider Cam- 
paign," which resulted in the election of General Harrison to the presidency, 
occasioned a pause in the Temperance movement. It is said that some oppo- 
nent had declared he was unfit for the ofSce, because ho never had the ability 
to rai.se himself beyond the occupancy of a log-cabin, in which he lived very 
coarsely, with no better beverage than bard cider. It was an unfortunate 
charge for the wishes of the accuser. The taunt of his being a poor man, 
and living in a log-cabin, was seized upon by his political friends, as evidence 
of his incorruptibility in the many responsible stations be had held ; and 
" the log-cabin " became at once the symbol of the Whig party. Thousands 
of these were forthwith erected all over the land, as rallying points for 
political meetings. Miniature cabins were carried in political processions, 
and in some cases barrels labeled "h.wd cider." 

The public raind cannot be simultaneously excited on two subjects, not 



230 ADVENTUKES .AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

long upon DUG. In the whirl of this memorable campaign, everything else 
was for the time forgotten ; and although perhaps not much hard cider was 
drank, yet it is to be presumed that poor whisky, rum, and other coarse 
forms of alcoholic drinks, in unusual quantities, ministered to and increased 
the wild furor of the day. 

"Principles never die;" although great reforms may be temporarily 
crushed, yet, often at the very moment of the lowest depression, unseen 
causes are originating, destined to impart an unwonted vigor to the right. 
Such was now the case, for this very year gave birth to the Washingtonian 
phase of the Temperance Reform. Ueretofore, the cure of those far gone in 
habits of inebriety was generally thought hopeless ! The main object of the 
pledge had been preservation not cure. It is true that many inebriates signed 
the old pledge. This proved of little avail while alcoholic wines were 
allowed ; and when the new pledge was instituted they were still without 
the countenance of their former boon associates in their new relation, and in 
most cases relapsed into their old habits. 

When the Temperance Reformation arose, " there were supposed to be in 
the United States not less than three hundred thousand common drunkards. 
The most of them were husbands and fathers. Many had large families. 
Their houses were generally known by the broken door-yard fence ; the 
fallen gate; the windows stuffed with old hats and rags; the clapboards 
dangling in the air ; the barns held up by props and stripped of their boards, 
which had been used for fuel ; a half-starved horse standing in the street 
and several ragged children, who, without hats or shoes, spent their days in 
dragging brush-wood from the neighboring forests, or in begging pennies 
from door to door, to buy their mother a loaf of bread. 

In the interior, little was visible either of neatness or comfort. No bed but 
one of straw, laid on knotted ropes ; here a show of a table, and there a 
broken chair. A half dozen broken plates, rusty knives and forks, and iron 
spoons ; a mug for cider, and a bottle for rum. Neither carpet nor plaster- 
iw was there — if it was winter, the snow would often lie upon the bed, and 
the mother and her children be seen huddled together over a few embers, 
as their only refuge. Night would come, but no sound of a father's voice 
with comfortable food to cheer and gladden. The children would cry them- 
selves to sleep. The mother would sit and " watch the moon go down," 
till distant footsteps were heard, and horrid oaths vented at not finding the 
door, causing her heart to quail ; and a monster in human shape, but the 
father of her children, would burst upon her, and perhaps drive her out in 
the cold and dreary night, even in a pitiless storm, compelling her to leave 
her babes to his neglect or cruelties. 

These were homes witnessed in almost every neighborhood. The inhabit- 
ants were accustomed to the spectacle as, a necessary appendage to their 
village, as the church, the school-house, the tavern, the dram-shop, or the 
comfortable home of the sober and the frugal ; and it attracted no particular 
notice, unless there went forth, at midnight hour, a cry of murder : and then, 
for a little season, all thought something must be done ; the wife must swear 
the peace upon her husband, and be, by authority, be sent to jail. I'ut this 
she would not do ; ho was her husband ; he promised to reform, and things 
would be left to pass on much as before. 



OF AilKRICANS. 231 

From t'.iis verj- class originated a movement which astonished the country, 
and lifted the Temperance Keform up to a point it had never previously 
attained. On the evening of Friday, Api-il 2d, 1840, six men of intem- 
perate habits met at Chase's Tavern, in Baltimore, to gratify their appetite 
for strong drink. They were Wm. K. Mitchell, a tailor; John T. Hoss, a 
carpenter ; David Anderson, a blacksmith ; George Sieers, a •wheelwright ; 
Jas. McCurly, a coachmaker; and Archibald Campbell, a silverplater. 
" Thus they met as they had often met before ; but neither seemed inclined 
to call for the subtle poison that had so many times stolen away their reason. 
Soon the feelings of each became known to the others, and they felt a sudden 
hope springing up in their minds — a hope in the power of association. Sad 
experience had proven to each one of that little compan}-, that alone he 
could not stand. But together, shoulder to shoulder, hand to hand, and 
heart to heart, they felt that though the struggle would be hard, they couM, 
and they would conquer ! 

In that moral pest-house then, while inhaling with every breath the 
tempting fumes of the potations they loved, did this little band pledge 
themselves to each other, never again to drink any kind of intoxicating 
drink — spirits, wine, malt, or cider." 

They organized themselves into a society, and called it the Washington 
Temperaiu-e Society. Then they went to some of their old companions, told 
them what they had done, and invited them to join their society. A few 
were found to break away from their bondage and unite with them. Thus 
their power and influence became increased. Others soon followed the 
example, and it was not long before the society numbered over one hundred 
members, each one of whom had been for years in the habit of drinking, and 
most of them occasionally to intoxication. 

All this time, each member was using all his powers of reasoning and per- 
suasion to induce his old companions to come in. Some would, on the nights 
of their meetings, station themselves near the grog-shops they had formerly 
boon in the habit of visiting, and intercept those whom they knew, before 
they had reached the dooi-s they were seeking. Then they would reason 
with them, and persuade them to come to the society ; if not to join, at least 
to hear. In this way numbers were added. Such members as had no 
work, were aided as far as possible, and efforts were made to procure work 
for them." 

And thus the reformation went on. Their meetings were conducted by 
the relation of the experience of the speakers. Xeither of these original six 
became distinguished speakei's, but the president, Wm. K. Jlitchell, a man 
ol rare genius, vigorous intellect, and commanding influence, threw into the 
association a power, which soon caused it to be felt through the whole city. 
The thrilling tales narrated by the reformed, as they signed the pledge, were 
widely spread abroad, and by the close of 1840, thousands had flocked to 
their standard, many of whom had been miserable slaves to the intoxica- 
ting cup. 

One of these, John H. W. Hawkins, a hatter by trade, was reduced, at the 
age of twenty-two, to extreme drunkenness. He wandered far off from his 
friends to the West, where he suflered every evil from poverty, degradation, 
and vice— lived years in Baltimore, without providing food oe clothing foi 



232 ADVENT UBES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

his family, a living death to them. Ilis wife would sit up for him until 
midnight, and watch to see whether he came home drunk orsoher; often 
would he fall prostrate in his hall, and his little daughter would cover him 
witli a blanket until morning light. This individual soon became a powerful 
public speaker. He traveled through the country relating his experience, 
and was the means of saving thousands from the drunkard's fate. In the 
course of two years he succeeded in attaining the signatures of more than 
eighty thousand persons to the pledge. " On the 15lh of June, 1840," said 
he, in one of his public addresses, "I drank and suffered awfully — I can't 
tell how much I suffered in mind — in body everything, but in mind more. 
I drank dreadfully the two first weeks of June — bought by the gallon, and 
lirank, and drank, and was about taking my life — drunk all the time. On 
the 14th, I was a wonder to myself; astonished I had my mind left, and 
J et it seemed, in the goodness of God, uncommonly clear. I lay in bed 
long after my wife and daughter were up, and my conscience drove me to 
madness. I hated the darkness of the night ; and when light came, I hated 
the light. I hated myself — my existence. I asked myself, 'Can I refrain ; 
is it possible ?' Not a being to take me by the hand, and lead or help me 
along, and say you, can. I was friendless ; without help or light ; an outcast. 
My wife came up stairs, and knew I was suffering, and asked me to go down 
to breakfast. I had a pint of whisky, and thought I would drink ; and yet 
I knew it was life or death with me as I decided. Well, I told my wife I 
would come down presently. Then my daughter camo up and asked me 
down. I always loved her — more because she was the drunkard's friend — 
my only friend. 

"She said, 'Father, don't send me after whisky to-day.' I was tormented 
before, but this was an unexpected torture. I told her to leave the chamber, 
and she went down crying, and said to her mother, 'Father is angry with 
me.' Wife came up again, and asked me to take some coffee ; I told her I 
did not want anything of her, and covered myself in the bed. I soon heard 
some one enter the room, and I peeped out and saw it was my daughter. I 
then thought of my past life ; my degradation ; misery of my friends ; and 
felt bad enough. So I called her and said, 'Hannah, I am not angrj- with 
you, and I shall not drink any more.' She cried, and so did I. I got up 
and went to the cupboard, and looked at the enemy, and thought, 'Is it 
possible I can be restored?' and then turned my back upon it. Several 
times, while dressing, I looked at the bottle, but thought I should be lost if 
I yielded. Poor drunkard ! there is hope for you. You cannot be worse off 
than I was ; not more degraded, or more of a slave to appetite. You can 
reform if you will. Try it — try it! I felt badly, I tell you. 

"Well, Monday night I went to the Society of Drunkards, and there I 
found all my old bottle companions. I did not tell anybody I was going, 
not even my wife. I had got out of difficulty, but did not know how long 
I would keep out. The six-pounders of the society were there. We had 
fished together; got drunk together. You could not break us up when 
drunk. We stuck like brothers, and so we do now, we are sober. One 
eaid, here is Hawkins, the 'regulator,' the old bruiser; and they clapped me 
and laughed, as you do now. But there was no laugh or clap in me. I 
was too sober and solemn for that. The pledge was read for my accomraoda- 



OF AMKUICANS. 233 

tioii. They did not say so, and yet 1 knew lliey all luoked over my 
sliouldor to see me write my name. I never had such feelings before. It 
was a great battle. I once fought the battle at North Point, and helped to 
run away too, but now there was no running away. I found the .society 
had a large pitcher of water ; drank toasts, and told experiences. There I 
laid my plan ; I did not intend to be a drone. Alcohol promised me every- 
thing, but I found him a great deceiver, and now I meant to do him all the 
harm I could. 

"At eleven I went home. When I stayed out late, I always went home 
drunk. Wife had given me up again, and thought I would be home drunk 
aaain, and she began to think about breaking up and going home to mother's. 
My yard is covered with brick, and as I went over the brick, wife listened, 
as she told me, to determine whether the gate-door opened drunk or sober, 
for she could tell, and it opened sober and shut sober ; and when I entered, 
my wife was standing in the middle of the room, to sec mo as I came in. 
She was astonished, but I smiled and she smiled, as I caught her keen black 
eye. I told her quick ; I could not keep it back. ' I have put ray name to 
the temperance pledge, never to drink as long as I live.' It was a happy 
time. I cried, and she cried ; we could not help it, and crying waked up 
our daughter, and she cried too. 1 tell you this, that you may know how 
happy the reformation of a drunkard makes his family. I slept none that 
night, my thoughts were better than sleep. Next morning I went to see 
my mother, old as she was. I must go to see her and tell her of our joy. 
She had been praying twenty years for her drunken son. Now, she said, 
' It is enough, I am ready to die.' It made all my connections happy." 

Possessed of a clear, strong, and mellow voice, and having unusually 
warm affections ; being entirely willing to relate the whole of his bitter 
experience, and doing it, not in a spirit of boasting, but contrition, he soon 
became a prominent speaker ; and under his addresses, large and intelligent 
audiences were often in tears. In the course of the ensuing winter, he 
attended the anniversary of the Maryland State Temperance Society, at 
Annapolis, and related his experience before the members of the State 
Legislature, with much effect ; the house, it is said, were dissolved in tears. 
In the following March, he, with four other reformed men from Baltimore, 
came, by invitation, to New York, where, under the relation of their per- 
sonal experience, before immense crowds, commenced the Washingtonian 
Reform of that city. At the first meeting, while Mr. Hawkins was speak- 
ing, in the Green Street Methodist Church, a poor drunkard cried out in the 
gallery, "Can I be saved, too?" "Yes," said Mr. Hawkins, "you can. 
Come down and sign the pledge." With a little solicitation, the man came 
down, and, supported by two others, came up to the altar and signed the 
pledge. The victory was now gained. The work of redemption among 
poor drunkards commenced. Another uttered forth the feelings of his 
heart, and was induced to come down and sign the pledge. Five or si.x. 
others of the miserable class soon followed, and some thirty or forty besides, 
well known as hard drinkers or drunkards. It was the first fruits of a 
great harvest. 

Ou another occasion, he said : "Go lo Pnihimore and see our now happy 
wives and families. Only look at our proeessiou on the yth of April, when 



234 ADVKXTURES AND ACHIEVEMEN'TS 

we celebrated our anniversary. Two thousand men, nearly hall" of them 
reformed within a year, followed by two thousand boys of all ages, to give 
assurance to the world that the next generation shall all be sober. Bus 
where were our wives on that occasion ? At home, shut up with hungry 
children in rags as a year ago ? No, no ! but in carriages, riding round tliu 
streets to see their sober husbands ! 

My family were in a hack, and I carried ap|iles, cakes, etc., to them, and 

wife said, ' How happy all look ; why, husband, there is all dressed 

up — and only thiidc, I saw old in the procession, as happy and smart 

iis any of tliem ; ' and so she went on telling me who she had seen. And 
where do you think the grog-sellers' wives were ? Were they out ? Not 
they! Some of them peeped out from behind their curtains! We cut 
<Unvu the rum tree that day in Baltimore, under ground ; not on the tup of 
the ground, leaving a stumij, but under ground, roots and all ! " 

Of the dangers and results of the drinking usages of society, and the 
horrid traffic in intoxicating liquors, he spoke with an honest but just indig- 
nation, showing talents of no ordinary character. 

" This drinking has killed more men, women, and children, than war, 
pestilence, and all other evils together. You cannot bring upon man so 
nwful a curse as alcohol ; it cannot be done ; no machinery or invention of 
death can work like it. Is there a moderate drinker, who says he can use 
'a little,' or 'much,' and 'quit when he pleases?' I tell him from e.x.- 
porience, he can't do it. Well, he can if he will, but UE won't will, that is 
the difficulty, and there is the fatal mistake. Does he want to know 
whether he can ? I ask him to go without his accustomed morning bitters, 
or his eleven o'clock, to-morrow, and he will find how he loves it ! We 
have come up out of the gutter to tell him how he loves it, and how ho 
may e-:cape. It is the moderate use — the little, the pretty drink, the gen- 
teel and fashionable, that does the mischief — the moderate drinker is train- 
ing to take the place of the drunkard. 

This m.aking the drunkard by a thousand temptations and inducements, 
and then shutting him up in prison, is a cruel and horrible business. You 
make the drunkard, and then, if he comes into your house, you turn him 
out; let him come to the church, and you turn him out; friends cast hini 
off; the grog-seller turns him out when bis money is gone, or midnight 
comes. When he serves his time out in the prison, he is turned out witli 
the threat of flogging if he is ever caught again : and yet you keep open the 
place where he is entangled and destroyed. You are bound to turn the 
whole tide of public opinion against the traffic. The seller will pour down 
your .son's throat a tide of li(iuor, and you do so to his son and he would 
cvit your throat. Ask him if he is willing you should make his daughter a 
drunkard, and why should he make your son one ?" 

Two others of these Baltimore reformers, Messrs. Pollard and Wright, 
were jiiain, uneducated men, but great inebriates. Their victories in New 
York, New Jensej-, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, almost surpassed 
Ijelief. They attended over five hundred meetings, and obtained above 
sixty thousand signatures to the pledge. A third, Mr. Vickers, once one of 
the most abandoned of men, so debased as to leave his wife and five ohiUken 
eighteen months without a dollar to feed or clothe them, and who was so 



OF AMERlL'AXS. 035 

rtuliioed and chai)<;eil, that when he finally cama home his wife dul not 
know him ; this man, by his history and pouerl'til appeals, kindh;d up a 
flame which spread over all the West, and he himself witnessed tlie signa- 
tures of seventy thousand names to the pledge. 

Another, George Haydock, an inhabitant of Hudson, N. Y., who seemed 
to embod}' in himself all the ravages of alcohol over body, mind, and heart ; 
wdio had been bereft by this destroyer, in blasting rocks, of one leg and one 
eye, and was --"ewed as perfectly irreclaimable, gathered over eight thousand 
signatures to the pledge — of which at least one thousand were from coninion 
drunkards. 

Another remarkable instrument in this work was Joseph Hayes, of Batli, 
Maine, of whom it was a proverb, " drunk as old Hayes." His poverty, 
destitution, and debasement, were the most extreme. He hail one garment, 
for which no name could be given. The hat which he wore through the 
cold winter was made of straw. Boots ho had none, and his shoes were in 
very bad order. But with an uncommon vigor of intellect and powerful 
frame, he traversed, as a perfectly reformed man, many parts of the State, 
waging an exterminating war with his old enemy ; extensively reclaiming 
inveterate drunkards, and breaking np the mo.^t profitable liipuor establish- 
ments. 

In New Haven, Conn., lived a Mr. Abel Bishop, than whom, perhaps, no 
man ever passed through a more horrid fever of delirium tremens and lived. 
Men were about him, in his apprehension, to flay him alive. He saw them 
begin to cut his flesh with saws, and to pull off his skin in strings, and hang 
lliem on wires. At other times, it seemed to him a cage of wild beasts were 
let loose upon him. At one moment he thought his breast was full of 
animals : he asked a 3'oung man to draw them out, which ho did, and every 
time he drew one out a horrid sensation of faintness came over him. At 
another time, he thought his comrades were assaulting him with houks, 
which the}' endeavored to strike into his flesh. He would stand on the 
defensive, fighting till the sweat from his body would stand in puddles on 
the floor. This man, reformed bj' this new instrumentality, became himself 
ft public advocate of the cause, visited most of the counties in the State, 
and, by his relation of the awful consequences of rum drinking in his own 
•use, everywhere produced great results. 

Even in death, two years later, the influence of Mr. Bishop still worked 
for good. On the day after his decease, a young man of promise, but f;ist 
forming intemperate habits, came, at the instigation of a friend, into the shop 
where that coffin was making, and expressed a wish to sign the jiledge. 
The pledge was read to him. With an oath, he declared he would not thus 
give up his liberty ; and yet, said he, if I do not come to it, I shall soon 
want a coffin myself. Whose coffin is this ? The maker told him, and 
gave him in brief the history of Mr. Bishop, his dreadful career, his delirium, 
his reform, his labors, his triumph and happy death. Give mo, said the 
much-affected young man, a pen. He took it, and there, over Mr. Bishop's 
coffin, signed the pledge. 

In every part of the Union, the meetings of the reformed men became the 
great attraction of the time. Curiosity- drew to them the most abandoned 
drunkards, and the most heartless of the retailers of alcoholic drinks. The 



ii36 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

latter eyed the reformed with a peculiar malignancy', that can be only ex- 
pressed by the term hellish. Signing the pledge, they stigmatized aa 
"signing away of one's liberty." Invective, ridicule, and every appliance 
which malice and selfishness combined could invent, were used to recover 
their lost customers. The reformed man, who had scarceh' power to stand 
alone, was too often again enticed to ruin. Many a wife, and many a 
daughter, as was attested by the history of the times, has, on bended knees, 
and with streaming eyes, besought some one of these men to withhold the 
fatal draught from a husband or a father, and been denied with a laugh of 
fiendish exultation : nay, worse, driven away with blows. To such men, 
these meetings of the Washingtonians were viewed with anything but 
pleasurable emotions. Not unfrequently they witnessed one of their cus- 
tomers, in a state of inebriation, stagger up and sign the pledge, as is illus- 
trated in our engraving ; and, furthermore, often under these circumstancea 
had the after disappointment, with all their arts, of not being able again 
to lure him within the embrace of their snaky, slimy coil. 

The mental power of the reformed, iu many cases, burst forth to the sur- 
prise of all who knew them. " Men, who for years had been lost to the 
world, and where known, known only as stupid, sottish, imbecile drunkards, 
in many instances exhibited rare powers of public address, and for hour3 
commanded the attention of large and intelligent audiences, producing con- 
viction where all argument before had failed, exciting sympathies where 
none had before existed, and producing an almost complete revolution iu 
society. Their self-respect and moral sense, too, rose at once as from a 
night of oblivion. Men who were lost to all sense of shame ; who were seen 
day by day ragged, filthy, unshaven ; who cared not who were their asso- 
ciates, how low their condition ; who would even make their bed with the 
swine : men who would lie and steal, became well dressed, resjiected them- 
selves and their standing in society, abhorred vicious company and vicious 
conduct, and felt again, and jierhaps far more deeply than ever before, that 
they were moral and accountable beings, and responsible for all their conduct 
to tbe great Author of their existence. There was also a hapjiy restoration of 
natural affection. The moment the dramshop was renounced, that moment the 
heart turned back to its long-forsaken home, to the abused wife, and to the 
wretched children. There were found objects of attachment, which melted 
the long brutalized spirit, and there was shown a devotion to their interests, 
a willingness to labor for them, and a determination to provide for their 
future welfare, soothing the sorrows and afflictions that were hurrying them 
to the grave. From these various results of the reformation of an untold 
number of drunken husbands, fathers, and sons, there was an actual relief 
of domestic misery and creation of domestic happiness probably never before 
Idealized from any one occurrence since the world began. 

The miserable men, who were throughout the country, especially in the 
large cities, the subjects of this reform, were at first without decent clothing, 
without food or employment, and their families were destitute, afllioted, 
and exposed to the worst temptations. Though the drunkard had ever 
been cast off as an odious being, and his poor unfortunate family had been 
left to partake of his [Mverty and degradation, yet the moment ho seemed 
to make a bold and honest resolution to rise, the sympathies of many were 



OF AMEPJCANS. 23T 

moved toward hira. First, the reformed men themselves who sought him 
out and took him by the hand, who led him to the Temperance meeting 
and encouraged him to sign the pledge, did what they could to minister to 
his necessities. In their temporary asylum, in some sail loft, they washed, 
and combed, and nurtured him, but they could not clothe him. Appeals in 
their behalf were made to the ijublic, and some feeble aid was rendered ; 
but system was needed, and the heart of woman was touched. Ladies 
combined in several cities in associations, properly called Martha Washing- 
ton Societies, taking the work of supplying the wants of the reformed into 
their own hands, and the result was of the most lieart-cheering character. 

Whenever tlie reformed men made a public manifestation of their joy and 
gratitude at their wonderful escape from the fangs of the monster which 
ground them in the dust, they were at once met with a most enthusiastic 
response from almost the entire community. At their first public procession 
in Baltimore, on the 5th of April, 1841, the whole city came out to see 
what new thing this was, and to bid them God speed in their glorious 
enterprise. 

The next year, at Now York, on the 29th of March, at Cincinnati on the 
5th, and at Philadelphia on the 12th of April, the anniversary of the com- 
mencement of the Washington movement was celebrated bj' grand tri- 
umphant Temperance processions ; which, had they been surpassed by those 
of a civic character, which, it is believed, they seldom have, contained 
elements of moral sublimit}' deeply affecting. Hundreds and thousands 
looked upon these reformed men, numbering in each of the cities many 
thousands, waving their appropriate banners in glorious triumph over the 
worst of human foes, and asserting before the world their dignity and happi- 
ness as free and sober men, and bade them onward to their wonderful enter- 
prise. The following notice from a Cincinnati paper, affords a specimen 
of the enthusiastic and sympathetic feeling in each of the three great 
cities. 

"When the column had arrived on Vine above Third street, they were 
received by the Juvenile Temperance Society of the Ninth Street Baptist 
Church. The band in front ceased playing, and the juveniles commenced 
singing a most delightful Temperance h3"mn. The effect was electrical. 
Many a cheek was bedewed with tears, in that column — tears that could 
not be restrained. As we turned into Fourth street from Vine, we found 
the juvenile societies posted on the loft, as far as the eye could reach down 
the street — occupying the whole of the sidewalk almost to Western-Row ; 
and as the front of the column came opposite to each society, they com- 
menced their Temperance songs, prepared for the occasion, with great spirit 
and overwhelming effect. Every heart seemed to be moved by this, to 
most, unexpected welcome. The column marched along this line with 
uncovered heads, while on the opposite side of the street every inch of 
pavement, every window, and even the roofs of the houses, where it was 
practicable, were occupied with ladies, who welcomed the procession with 
their joyous smiles, the waving of handkerchiefs, and every possible ex- 
pression of their approbation. Along the whole line of march the streets 
were crowded with delighted and eager spectators. When the procession 
arrived at the park, it was received bv the ladies of the Martha Washington 



23S ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

Society, who were posted on the north siile of the park. Here was another 
scene of great excitement and interest. Every side of the part, and every 
street leading to it, were crowded to overflowing — all anxious to M'itncss 
every movement of this great moral pageant." 

At this important era, Dr. Thomas Sewall, an eminent physician and dis- 
tinguished philanthropist of the Citj' of Washington, exhibited to the public 
a series of plates, representing, from actual dissections, the influence of 
alcohol upon the human stomach ; the state of the stomach of the perfectly 
temperate man, of the moderate drinker, of the habitual drunkard, of the 
drunkard after a debauch, and of the drunkard dying of delirium tremens. 
The exhibition was accompanied with a lecture upon the pathology of 
drunkenness, which was listened to with deep attention by three thousand 
citizens of Washington, and many members of the national government. 
Copies of these plates were extensively circulated everywhere, and proved 
of great service in imparting correct knowledge on the subject. 

The effect of the exhibition in Washington was electrical, and in a few 
weeks it excited the friends of total abstinence in Congress to unite in a Con- 
gressional Total Abstinence Society. The Congressional Temperance Society 
formed ten years before, on the principle of abstinence from the use of 
ardent spirits, was respectable and useful in its day. But while other in- 
toxicating drinks were continued in use, especially the wines of commerce, 
highly brandied, intemperance was not surpressed even among its members, 
and in a few years it languished and died. The time had now come for an 
organization on the principle of total abstinence from all intoxicating 
liquors as a beverage. Such a society was formed on the 9th of February, 
1842. More than eighty members of Congress united with the society, by 
signing the total abstinence pledge. 

A new feature at this period, was the formation of Children's Temperance 
Societies, called the Cold Water Army. In the year 1841, in the single State 
of Massachusetts, thirty-five thousand badges, and twelve hundred chil- 
dren's banners were sold. In Sundaj- schools, too, all over the land, vast 
multitudes enlisted under the Temperance standard. These gathered by 
thousands on the Fourth of July, and on other occasions, and marched 
forth singing : 

*' With banner and with badge we come — 
Away the bowl, away the bowl," 

To some beautiful grove, there to partake of a plentiful repast in joy and 
thanksgiving. That department of Temperance action derived new interest 
from the Washingtonian Reform. With their father, the children of the 
drunkard had been outcasts from society. They had no place in the day- 
school or the Sabbath-school. Ragged and filthy, they had been left to 
roam about the miserable habitation of their parent ; and bring rum from the 
store for a drunken father, or drag brush from the woods for a broken-hearted 
mother. But relief came. A jubilee was proclaimed for thousands on 
thousands. The drunken father was reformed, and the children were in a 
new world. They were clothed and fed, and found a place in the publio 
school. Other children sympathized with them, and if there was one selected 



OF AMERICANS. 239 

to carry the }ianncr on tlie public festival, it often was the drunkard's son, or 
the drunkard's daughter. 

Another feature of the times, was the immense number of hotels which 
sprang up all over the land, conducted on the Temperance principle. One of 
the good stories told by the Washingtonians, was of a man who was in the 
country on a visit, where they had no liquor. Ho got up two hours before 
breakfast, and wanted his bitters. None to be had ; of course he felt bad. 
" How far is it to a tavern ?" he asked. " Four miles." So off the thirsty 
sou! started — walked four miles in a pleasant frame of mind, arrived at the 
tavern — and found it was a Temperance house. 

The Temperance Reform was, by no means, confined to our country. In 
the year 1842, it was estimated there were ten miliums of teetotallers on the 
globe. Early in the history of the reform, Temperance missionaries had 
gone out from our country to various parts of the world. Temperance soci- 
eties were established in Canada ; in Great Britain, in Sweden, and other 
parts of Europe ; in South Africa, and the Cape of Good Hope ; in the East 
Indies, and Australia ; in the West Indies, and in the Sandwich Islands. 
Our countryman, the Rev. Robert Baird, visited most of the northern coun- 
tries of Europe ; and it is said, the result of his labors led to the reduction or 
shutting up of not less than forty thousand distilleries. 

In August, 1846, a grand gathering of the friends of Temperance, took 
place at London, under the title of " The World's Temperance Conven- 
tion." No less than three hundred delegates, appointed by their respective 
Temperance Societies, in various parts of the world, attended it — thirty of 
whom crossed the Atlantic, from our country, for the special purpose. As 
King Oscar of Sweden and his amiable consort had, through the solicitations 
of Dr. Baird, done so much for the Temperance cause in Sweden, they 
united in an address to the crowned heads of Europe, in the hope that 
others might follow the example of the Swedish monarch. 

Another great event of the same year, was the decision of the Supreme 
Court of the United States at Washington, on the License question, which 
had been waited for by friends and enemies of the cause with the greatest 
interest. The constitutionality of State laws prohibiting the traffic in in- 
toxicating liquors without license, had been doubted and denied, and by 
appeal had been carried from State courts to the Supreme Court of the 
nation. There it was ably argued by distinguished counsel, and after much 
delay, preventing and retarding prosecutions for the violation of license laws 
in several States, the court unanimoush' affirmed to the States the right of 
"regulating the trade in, and licensing the sale of ardent spirits." The 
decision was received by the friends of Temperance throughout the whole 
countr}' with great rejoicings. 

At this period, comparatively few common drunkards were found in any 
part of our country. Where twenty years previously were from fifty to 
seventy in a village or town, now only here and there was an individual of 
that class. This of course does not refer to the masses of drunken men and 
women in the cities, mostly of the very lowest class of foreigners, idle, 
vicious, and abandoned wretches. The Washingtonian movement in a few 
years had, in a measure, spent its force, for the want of the material on 
which to operate ; and jjrevention, not cure, again became the leading question. 



243 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

In addition to tlia regular Temperance Societies, the various orders of 
Rechabitert, Sons, and Daughters, and Cadets of Temperance, Templars, 
Good Samaritans, etc., arose and spread over the United States and British 
America. The most numerous of these was the order of Sons. In 1850, 
they had thirty-five grand divisions, five thousand eight hundred and ninety- 
four suboVdinale divisions, and about three hundred thousand members. 
The order w.ns elective, and had secret pass- words for admittance to their 
meetings. Weelily pa3'raents were required of the members, which gave 
abundant means for the erection of halls, and for the relief of distress. Its 
Fourth National Jubilee, or meeting of the National Division, held at 
Boston, June 11, 1850, was attended by thousands, from various States of 
the Union, clothed in their regalia, and forming a splendid pageant. The 
Cadets of Temperance were a younger order of the Sons, who, at maturity, 
were to pass into that order. They enlisted, on the principle of total absti- 
nence from intoxicating liquor, and also from tobacco, a large number of 
lads throughout the country. 

The year 1851 was signalized by the passage of the celebrated Maine 
Liquor Law. From one extremity of the country to the other, the enact- 
ment of the law filled the public mind with amazement. That a State of 
such magnitude, by an overwhelming vote of both branches of its legisla- 
ture, should expel a business so vast, affecting so many interests, and cut- 
ting off at once the indulgence of an appetite stronger, in a multitude of 
cases, than the appetite for food, seemed almost incredible. Distillers and 
brewers, importers and venders, were panic struck ; yet none believed the 
law could be enforced, or would remain more than a year upon the statute 
book of the State. 

For three years previouslj', the State of Maine had an entirely prohibitory 
statute. No man could engage in the liquor trade without a liability to 
pains and penalties. But in a thousand ways the law was evaded. Convic- 
tions were difficult. Prosecutions became infiimous. AVith the liquor in 
possession, the vender had the sympathy of men who wished for the indul- 
gence of appetite, and found no difficulty in making himself rich without 
serious exposure. To the Hon. Neal Dow, a citizen of Portland, and long 
an advocate of the Temperance enterprise, belongs the honor of proposing a 
law which should not only forbid the traffic in spirituous and intoxicating 
liquors as a* beverage, but which should declare them, when offered for sale, 
confiscated to the State, and consign them to destruction. 

This famous law was comprised in sixteen sections. As a matter of 
interest to the reader, we give in the language of an able writer the intent 
of the law, and the grounds upon which it was defended. 

"The grand feature of the Maine Law, consists in the fact, that it does 
not aim to rerjulale and limit the manufacture and sale of intoxicating 
liqujrs to be used as a beverage, but to prohibit them altogether. It is 
not a regulating, but a prohibitory law ; and in this respect differs from the 
License System. It makes the liquor business a crime, for which the 
offender is liable to be punished. It confiscates these liquor.s to the State, 
when kept for sale, and directs them to be destroj'ed. It outlaws them as 
an article of commerce within the limits of the State. Its aim is to break 
down tlie traffic and thus relieve the community from the terrible evils 



OF AMERICANS. 241 

consequent upon its continuance. It does not make the sale unlawful, 
when the article is to be used for medicinal or mechanical purposes ; but by 
stringent provisions limits the sale to these uses, directing the appointment 
of agents therefor, who are placed under bonds to confi rm strictly to the 
provisions of the statute. Prohibition, exclusion, outlawry, and not protec- 
tion or regulation — this, then, is the grand principle of the Maine Law, armed 
with a sufiScient number of minor provisions to give force and certain,ty to 
the principle. Nearly all previous legislation had proceeded upon the 
assumption that the traffic is an evil to be regulated, which is the theory of 
the License System : this proceeds upon the assumption, that it is an evil to 
bo suppressed or removed altogether. It is the "summit-level of entire pro- 
hibition." 

The principle of the Maine Law is the only one adapted to the result. 
Theoretically the question is a very simple one. Intemperance and its evils 
depend on two causes — the supply of intoxicating beverage, and the con- 
sumption. Remove either, and the vice is dead. There is a difficulty in 
directly attacking the consumption by Jaw, in saying to a man under the 
solemnity of a statute, that he shall not make use of alcoholic beverage. 
This would be a kind of sumptuary legislation, likely to defeat itself, im- 
practicable in its operation, and at war with those notions of personal liberty, 
which are so thoroughly rooted in the American mind. Hence if the arm 
of law is to be interposed at all, it must operate uponthe supply ; and this 
is the direction of all the legislation that has over been attempted on the 
subject. The supply is the only point where law can make its agency 
felt. 

In respect, then, to the supply, you may take one of throe grounds. Tho 
first is to have no law on the sulijeot, leaving every man to manufacture or 
sell as much as he pleases, to conduct the liquor business just as he does any 
other, that is neither regulated nor restrained by law. Upon its face this is 
no remedy for the evil : it simply does nothing, and leaves the whole matter 
to the instincts of profit and appetite. A man ma}- advocate this ground ; 
vet he will not be so absurd as to call it a remedy. 

The second ground is that of regidution, which is the license system in its 
different phases. This system admits that the trafiic is an evil too serious 
to be open to all, and that it must, therefore, be limited to a few persons, 
licensed by law to conduct it, and protected by law in doing so. Now it ia 
a sufficient objection to this system, to say, that, in practical effect, it is, ever 
has been, and always must be, a failure. It has been tried in various forms, 
and for a long series of years; and this has been the uniform lesult. It 
never did, and never can reach the evil, as the most abundant facts conclu- 
sively show. Though it professedly undertakes to limit the number of the 
suppliers, it does not limit the supply : this keeps pace with the demand, 
and by generating an appetite, creates and increases that demand. It is the 
sober truth, that under every form of the license system, there has always 
been liquor enough in market to suppl}' all the drinkers who Want it, and 
can pay for it. The system therefore amounts to nothing as a remedy : it 
creates ii monopoly to do a 1 ad business, on the pretense of limiting it, without 
accomplishing this result. It protects, by legalizing, the evil it seeks to 
curtail. Under it grog-shops, especially in cities, are almost as thick as tho 



2i3 ADVEXTURES AND ACniEVEMENTS 

locusts of E;jyyt, at :ill times sufficient in inimber to keep the drinkers per- 
fectly supplied. 

The third ground is that of the Maine Law ; and, as we have already 
said, it is a total prohibition of the supply, except when the article is to be 
used for medicinal or mechanical purposes. Its penalties, in the way of 
fines, confiscation and imprisonment, are intended to be sufficiently search- 
ing and severe to carry this point. It is a thoroDgh, radical, and stringent 
effort to destroy the liquor-traffic, and in this way, dry up the fountain 
whence issue the desolating streams of intemperance. It proposes no terms 
with the business ; it makes no compromise with it : its deliberate and un- 
disguised aim is destruction, and not regulation or toleration. 

Now, it must be evident to every reflecting mind, that this kind of legis- 
lation, if we have any, is of the right sort. It is ad.ipted, as no other has 
been, and as no other can be, to do the vi'ork so far as law can do it at all. 
If you want to have intemperance tolerated and continued, then the license 
system will answer the purpose : but if j'ou wish to banish the vice by 
removing its means, then the Maine Law, or some other one of similar 
aim and stringency, must be the instrument. You cannot reach the 
result without the use of law : neither can you do so by any system of 
legislation that falls short of this mark. If we have a legal remedy, we 
must have one that will do the work : and this feature is the glory of the 
Maine Law. 

The principle of the Maine Law, is a perfectly legitimate exercise of the 
powers that belong to civil society. By this we mean that every State in 
this confederacy is fully competent to enact such a law : it comes within the 
province of what is called the police power of the State. 

The general doctrine which lies at the foundation of the powers claimed 
and exercised by the Maine Law, is this : Society has a right to exist, and 
to protect itself against whatever is adapted seriously to harm or destroy it. 
It has the right to consult its own welfare, and use the requisite means. 
The individual living in its bosom, and enjoying its protection, is not so free 
that he may do what he pleases, make any use of his property which he 
pleases, without reference to the effects upon others. The late Professor 
Stuart very properly observes : " Every society of men, united to protect 
each other's rights, and to secure the peace, and safety, and hai)piness of the 
whole, have the right to do what is necessary to accomplish these ends. It 
is the common law of our nature, and of all the nations of men. Who 
even questions the principle, whether a community has a right in ahate a 
nuisance? Of course it is their right, and duty, too, to judge and determine 
what is a nuisance. What has Maine done more than this?" This is 
sound doctrine. 

This doctrine, moreover, was most fully affirmed by the justices of the 
Supreme Court of the United States, when giving their decision in a suit 
brought to test the constitutionality of certain prohibitory laws passed bv 
Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire. Chief Justice Taney 
lield the following language : " If any State deems the retail and internal 
traffic in ardent spirits injurious to its citizens, and calculated to produce 
idleness, vice or debauchery, I see nothing in the Constitution of the United 
States to prevent it from regulating or restraining tlie traffic, or fivm pro- 



OF AMERICANS. 243 

hihiling it altogether, if it thinks proper." WitU this opinion the other 
justices of the court fully concurred. 

Let it be distinctly observed also, that the principle of the Maine Law 
claims no greater power than has always been conceded and assumed in the 
License System. This system says to the many, tliat they shall not engage 
in the liquor-traffic ; while, at the same time, for a paltry tax, it grants the 
privilege to the/tw. Now, clearly, if the State has power to prohibit the 
trafSc in respect to one half or nine tenths of her citizens, she has equal 
power to prohibit it in respect to all; if she may make the business un- 
lawful, except when licensed, if she may confer the right to sell, then she 
may withhold that license, and make the traffic unlawful to all her citizens ; 
and whether she shall do the one or the other, is not a question of power, 
but of expediency and duty. Hence, as you perceive, the Maine Law does 
not claim or exercise any new power on the part of the State. 

But it may be said, that this law confiscates and destroys private property 
when kept and used contrary to the provisions of the statute. This is true, 
ruemember, however, that this is part of the penalty for the crime of such 
keeping and using, and, of course, affects none but the man who breaks the 
law. If ho were a law-abiding citizen, the penalty would not harm the hair 
of his head. Those who lose their property by seizure and confiscation, are 
those, and those only, who use it unlawfully. The tools and implements 
of a counterfeiter are seized and destroyed, being forfeited by their unlawful 
use. The fact that the confiscated property is not put into the public 
treasury, but destroyed by the State, does not in the slightest degree enhance 
the pecuniary damage of the individual. He simply loses it, as a penalty 
inflicted for violating the law of the land. 

In the light of this reasoning, the principle of the Maine Law is a per- 
fectly legitimate exercise of the powers belonging to civil society. It under- 
takes to abate and remove a nuisance ; and this is my answer to the objec- 
tion that it interferes with the property rights of the individual. He has no 
ri''ht to create or perpetuate a nuisance. 

The principle of the Maine Law ought to be put in action by every civil 
community that is burdened and cursed with the liquor-trafiio. We have 
stated its end — the thing which it aims to do : wo have also shown that it 
is the only system adapted to this end : we have farther considered the 
powers of civil society to do such a work. Now wo take the ground that it 
is tlie diUy of society thus to act. The body politic has duties to perform, 
as well as rights to exercise. Look at this point a moment. 

Civil society established, and operating througli government as its agent, 
is a nvjrnl person, legitimately the subject of duty, and bound by its obliga- 
tion. This is a fundamental axiom of political ethics ; and it certainly is a 
Christian principle. The State can do wrong : the State is bound to do 
right : the principles of morality for the State and the individual are the 
same. The State is morally bound to provide for its own welfare — to con- 
duct over all its citizens an impartial and wholesome legislation — to enact and 
execute such laws as are adapted to promote the virtue, happiness, and 
general thrift of tlie whole community ; while, at the same time, they ought 
not to be tyrannical and oppressive toward any class. The State exists, not 
for a monopolv of benefits, but for the general good — not to license crime, 
16 



244 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

or patronize public evils, but to exert its legitimate powers for their sup- 
pression. 

We have, in this country, a great and towering evil, in the manufactura 
and sate of intoxicating li<iuors — an evil which, though profitable to the few, 
is nevertheless working untold mischief to the many. It burdens tlie land 
with taxation, pauperism, and crime, impairing all the interests of the body 
politic, and really profitable to none. This is not fancy, but fact : the statis- 
tics and testimony have often been gathered, and they are such as no honest 
and impartial mind can reject. We know in this age, as our fathers did 
not so well know, what are the consequences of the liquor business. Take 
a single .statement. " President Everett computes, that the use of alcoholic 
beverages has cost the United States directly, in ten years, $1,200,000,000; 
has burned, or otherwise destroyed, $5,000,000 more of property ; has 
destroyed three hundred thousand lives; sent one hundred and fifty thou- 
sand to our prisons, and one hundred thousand children to the poor-houses ; 
caused one thousand five hundred murders, two thousand suicides, and has 
bequeathed to the country one million of. orphan children." Call this 
exaggeration if you choose ; yet no man, with bis eyes half open, having a 
sound head and an honest heart, will deny the enormous extent of the evil 
incident to the liquor-traffic, fostered by it, and growing out of it. 

What, then, is the duty of civil society ? Was there ever a case that 
called more loudly for effectual legislation ? Shall government suppress 
lotteries, gambling, and counterfeiting ; outlaw mad-dogs, and abate nui- 
sances ; establish and execute quarantine laws for the public health ; and yet 
leave alcohol to run at largo ? Shall it prohibit minor evils, and yet be in- 
different to the greater one ? Shall it forsake the lino of duty just when 
the argument becomes most powerful, and the plea for action, loudest ? 
Shall it fold its arms in such premises ? Then, it will not perform its duty 
to God or man. If there be any case for legal interposition, this is such a 
case. 

But it may be said, this is a moral question, and ought to be left to moral 
suasion. So is gambling a moral question. Will you leave that to moral 
suasion ? Counterfeiting is a moral question. Will you trust it to a dis- 
pensation of argument, merely ? Murder is a moral question : and will you 
leave this to the mere force of argument ? Indeed, every use of property, 
in some aspects, involves a moral question. Shall society, therefore, with- 
hold all laws in respect to property ? 

It may be farther objected, that although society ought to do something, 
it ought not to use a remedy of so much severity as the Maine Law. This 
depends altogether upon a question of fact. If I could cure a disease with 
rose-water, I certainly would not use caustic : but I would use caustic rather 
than let the patient die. So in this case : if it be the purpose of the suciety 
to break up the liquor-trafiic, on account of its evils, and to employ the arm 
of law for this end, then you must have law enowjli to do the work." 

If the preceding arguments are not based on truth, then an American com- 
munitv has no legal power to prohibit any business that is, as a whole, in- 
jurious to it. Takj this to be so, that they cannot legally help themselves, 
then the extent of the injury don't affect the principle involved, although 
that extent may reach the poii.t, where one quarter of a community are 



OF AMERICANS. 245 

sent by it into premature graves ; another quarter rendered insane ; another 
quarter raaJe beggars and criminals ; and the remaining quarter, taxed to 
their last dollar to meet the expenses of confining the insane, supporting the 
paupers, and in hringing the thieves and murderers to juslice. 

The Maine Law went into operation on the 4th of July, 1851. "It soon 
became the settled policy of the State, and was cheerfully acquiesced in by 
a large majority of the citizens. , Its results surpassed expectation in dimin- 
ishing pauperism and crime, and increasing the comfort and prosperity of 
unnumbered families. With the exception of Portland, the law was as 
well enforced in the large towns and cities, as in the rural districts. To 
secure its more proper observance, the Hon. Neal Dow was once more 
elevated to the mayoralty of Portland, and new and more stringent sections 
were added to the law. To create disaffection and disturbance, an attack 
was made at midnight hour, upon a quantity of liquor in posse.ssion of the 
municipal authorities, and, in their prompt and vigorous defense, a man was 
killed. It was as fire to powder amid all the disaftected classes. Accord- 
ingly the ensuing election, in September, 1855, for State officers, was one 
without parallel for fierceness ; and though the Temperance vote was fifty 
thousand, ten thousand stronger than in 1854, yet the combinations were 
greater, and by it an opposition legislature and opposition governor were 
elected ; and the Maine Law, after a fair trial of five years, was overthrown, 
and a license law, promising unusual strictness, placed in its stead. But it 
was a license law. It permitted, under State authority, the re-introduction 
of the traffic into the State. The prohibitory clauses were but little regarded, 
even by the civil authorities, and, as an inevitable consequence, the State 
l«came at once flooded with liquor. Cities, towns, and villages were filled 
with open rum-shops of every grade. Drunkenness, rows, crimes, again 
appeared, with a frightful increase. Tho people were alarmed. Wives 
wore distressed for their husbands ; parents for their children. The philan- 
thropist, patriot, and Christian, sprang to the rescue ; and, in the elections of 
September, 1856, though in connection with other great and most exciting 
national issues, the prohibitory ticket again succeeded, with a clear majority 
for governor of over fifteen thousand votes, and a legislature was returned 
of almost entire Maine Law men. The triumph was astounding and over- 
whelming to the liquor interest." From motives of policy, no action was 
taken to restore the law, until the year 1853, when the people of the State, 
by a direct vote, nearly unanimously adopted a Prohibitory law, substantially 
like that of 1851, in preference to a License law. 

Laws on the principle-of the Maine Law, have \vith varying results, been 
adopted in several Slates. While public opinion is strong enough to enact 
such, the moral force to sustain them is usually wanting. The public move 
only under the smart of a wTong, and when that is past, all is forgotten until 
the forces of evil rally and scourge anew. 

The liquor interest never sleeps. Millions upon millions are invested in 
it. On the passage of a stringent law in opposition, the many thousands 
who live by the business, combine to wage an unrelenting war ; to render 
void its provisions, and to bring it into popular odium, that they may again 
open the sluices and wax fat to the injury of a forgetful, forgiving, and pre- 



246 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

occupied public. It is with society as witli the iiidivi(lii:il : tlic forces of evil 
are ever iu conflict with the forces of virtue. And in viewing how much 
has been accomplished by society in this reform, we have faith that the 
future will measure a like degree of progress. 

One point remains to be touched upon in this article — the adulteration 
of liquors. This is now carried on to such a vast extent, that the intelli- 
gent physician hesitates to prescribe alcoholic liquors, even in the most ur- 
gent cases, for external or internal application, from the uncertainty of 
procuring anything but a poisonous imitation. 

An old revolutionary soldier, whom we knew "as a boy knows a man," 
thus called out one day to his daughter : " Hannah ! what is this delirium 
tremens I hear folks talk about so mucli ? When I was a young man no- 
body had tlie delirium tremens." Old Captain B y was right, for he it 

was that so spake. Delirium tremens, or mania-a-potu, in those days was 
acarcel}- known. The common alcoholic drinks of that time, New England 
and Jamaica rum, Monongahela and Bourbon whisky, were pure, and people 
who did restrain themselves to " moderation," not unfrequently attained to the 
age of eighty or ninety years. Now-a-days, the drinking men die in a very 
few years, and often a single debauch with a man ordinarily temperate, 
brings on the delirium tremens, and then death. Such are the murderous 
effects of the terrible poisons now used by the manufacturers of liquors. 
Not only are nearly all foreign liquors of our time either imitations or 
adulterations, but it is the same with what purports to be our own made 
whisky and rum. It was thought that the native wines, from the grape of 
our soil, and the lager beer of our German citizens, would furnish a stimu- 
lus, that, by their comparatively innocuous qualities, would give .an escape 
for the great mass of these evils. This hope seems liable to be frustrated, 
for even much of what is called " native wine" contains not a particle of 
anything so harmless as the juice of the grape ; and most horrible cases of 
delirium tremens, ending in the death of the wretched victims — if we may 
credit the public prints of the day — have occurred from drinking what pur- 
ported to be "lager beer." 

The poisonous articles mostly used by the manufacturers of liquors are, 
strychnine, cocculus indious, opium, tobacco, henbane, potash, nitric acid, 
prussic acid, oil of vitriol, etc. Some years since. Dr. Woodward, of Wor- 
cester, Mass., published an account of his visiting a man who had broken 
his leg, and when he had set it, he asked if they had any rum in the house. 
They brought him some, with which he wet the bandages; but two davs 
afterward, he was alarmed when he found the heads of the pins, which he 
used in binding it up, were corroded, and on examining the rum which was 
used, he found it contained a large portion of oil of vitriol ! 

Poisonous flavorings of various kinds, put np in packages of five, ten, and 
forty gallons, requiring only the addition of pure spirits to make every kind 
of drink which the debased taste of the community may require, arc now 
publicly advertised in our newspapers. We annex some facts on adulte- 
ration, taken from reliable sources : " Brandy is almost universally a 
base adulteration. The imported article, as a general fact, is adulte- 
rated. The profit is so enormous, that the dealers cannot withstand tlie 
temptation to adulterate. Aqua fortis is the acid used in the preparation of 



OF AMKUICAXS. 247 

joimterfeit brandy : when combined with rectified spirits it imparts to it n 
lirandy-lilic flavor. Potash, ashes, oil of vitriol, are used to give proof. 

To prepare and sweeten gin, etc., oil of vitriol, oil of almonds, oil of tur- 
pentine, oil of juniper berries, lime water, alum, salt of tartar, snbacetate of 
lead, are used. Sulphate of lead is poisonous, and the use of it is frequent, 
because its action is more rapid, and it imparts to the liquor a fine com- 
plexion ; hence some vestiges of lead may often be detected in malt liquor. 
.\s with brandy and gin, so with mm. If whisky will sell for more money 
under the name of rum than under the name of wliisky, it is as easy to turn 
wliisky into rum as into brandy, gin, or wine. 

We now come to wine. Here the fabricators make their greatest profits, 
exercise their greatest skill, and probably do the greatest amount of injury. 
Unadulterated wine, according to its name and quality, must command a 
certain price, to make it worth dealing in. The fabricator's ingenuity is put 
to the greatest trial, to produce an article resembling the pure, so as to 
obtain, as near as possible, the price of pure ; and, as it is impossible to dis- 
tinguish the pure from impure ; and as the impure can be made at one tenth 
to one quarter of the value of the pure, the impure, as a natural conse- 
quence, takes the place of the pure, the same as the bogus dollar would take 
the place of the pure silver dollar, provided it w;is settled by common con- 
sent a dollar was a dollar, whether bogus or not. 

Says Dr. Nott : " I had a friend, who had been once a wine dealer, and 
having read the startling statements made public, in relation to the brewing 
of wines, and the adulterations of other liquors, generally, I inquired of that 
friend as to the verity of those statements. His reply was, ' God forgivt; 
what has passed in my own cellar, but the statements made are true, and all 
true, I assure you.' " 

The process of adulteration is carried on in wine countries, as well as in 
this country, with regard to Sladeira, Sherry, Claret, and all other kinds of 
wine. 

The Rev. Dr. Baird has stated, " that little or no wine is drank in France 
in a pure state, except it may be at the wine press. The dealers purchase 
it at the vineyards in a pure state, but in their hands it is entirely changed, 
by adding drugs or distilled spirit." 

Says Horatio Greenough, the eminent sculptor, "that although wine can 
be had in Florence at one cent a bottle, the dealers do not hesitate to add 
drugs and water, to gain a fraction more of profit." 

Champaign : A man who once worked in the office where this is printed, 
is now engaged in making champaign, for the ladies and gentlemen of the 
oountry, at a cost to him of two dollars the dozen. Some cider or whisky, 
some water, some fixed air, some sugar of lead, etc., form the compound. 
When this fabricated mixture circulates in the country, it is generally sold 
as pure, and our young men often quaff it, at two dollars the bottle, and an 
advance on the original cost of only one thousand one hundred per cent, ! 

A physician in New York purchased a bottle of what was called genuine 
champaign, of the importers, had it subjected to chemical tests ; it was found 
to contain a quarter of an ounce of sugar of lead. Wlio would like to drink 
.1 mixture of sugar of lead and water ? 

.\ gentleman in New York, wlio made champaign, purchased some, of tha 



243 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

regular importer, wishing to give his friends some of the genuine article. 
At a convivial party, he produced his pure as imported ;_ when the corks 
began to liy, one dropped near him ; on examining it, he found it was his 
own fabrication. The supposed importer had purchased it, and, by his 
French tinsel and French labels, sold it back, as pure, to the original fabri- 
cator — hilinff the biter. 

Port: An Episcopal clergyman, recently returned from the continent uf 
Europe, visited an immense manufactory of all kinds of wine. Logwood 
came in as a great ingredient — so great, that the proprietors kept a vessel in 
their employ for its importation. 

The dyers in Manchester, England, say, "the wine brewers are running 
nway with all tlie best logwood ;" and the London people say, "If you wish 
to get genuine Port, you must go yourself to Oporto, make your own wine, 
and Tide outside of the barrel all the way home." 

In the manufacture of beer, nux vomica and coccnlus indieus, are extensively 
u.^od. Nux vomica is the substance which forms the poison in the upas 
tree ; and is so bitter, that one grain deposited in eighty pounds of water, 
produces a bitter solution. Oocculus indieus is a poison, of which ten grains 
will kill a dog.* 

In fine, it is believed by those who ai"e competent judges, that there is 
scarcely a drop of intoxicating liquors, whether brandy, gin, rum, whisky, 
wine or beer, sold or drank in this country, which is not adulterated or 
drugged. Could the real truth be known upon this subject, it is evident 
that, with the exception of those already within the deadly embrace of the 
syren of intemperance, the whole community would at once and forever 
abandon the use of intoxicating drinks." 

The Temperance Reformation is the most surprising of all American 
achievements. To see the mass of a nation rise, investigate, and then con- 
quer an evil habit interwoven with all their customs, and cherished by all 
their prejudices, is a moral spectacle never before witnessed since the founda- 
tion of the world. A view of what has been accomplished within the 
memory of even the middle aged, is given in these contrasted columns. 

THEN. NOW. 

Then, nearly every family in the Now, the family which has intoxi- 
land had intoxicating drinks on their eating drinks on the table and side- 
table and sideboard. board, is an exception to the general 

rule. 

Then, the farms in the land were Now, not one farm in a hundred is 
worked with spirits. worked with spirits. 

Then, intoxicating liquors were Now, intoxicating drinks are sel- 
brought into all workshops. dom brought into a workshop. 



• The reader who may wish to pursue this subject iu full, is referred to Hunt's " Frauds 
iu the Liquor TraiSc, elicited aud proved from the SUnidard Receipt Books aud Guides 
of Viutuers, Distillers, and Brewers." It yot ouly proves the frauds beyoud all cavil, 
but shows the deadly natuie of the ingredients used. 



OF AMERICANS. 



249 



Then, all the merchant vessels Now, no merchant vesscis 'supply 

were supplied with spirit-rations for spirit-rations to the sailors, 
the sailors. 

Then, spirituous liquors were al- Now, spirituous liquors are seldom 

ways brought on at weddings and brought on at weddings, and never at 

funerals. funerals. 

Then, the Temperance Ileforma- Now, no public press has the te- 

tioa was ridiculed by the j^ress. merity to ridicule the Temperance 

Reformation. 



Then, everybody daily drank in- 
toxicating liquors as a beverage, and 
it was regarded as a necessary of life, 
and perfectly proper. 

Then, in every village were ruin- 
ous, dilapidated houses, with broken 
windows, and all the marks of neg- 
lect and decay ; the homes of miser- 
able drunkards, and their wretched 
families. 



Now, comparatively few daily 
drink intoxicating liquors as a bev- 
erage, and those who do so, are re- 
garded as in danger of filling the 
drunkard's grave. 

Now, in every village, in pilace of 
the miserable homes of drunkards, 
are the neat, thrifty dwellings of 
happy families. 



Then, the retailing of ardent spirits Now, the retailing of ardent spirits 

was considered a respectable ocoupa- is considered the vilest of occupations, 

tion, and good men were engaged and how good are the men engaged 

in it. in it, let the reader judge. 

Then, the father, often ere his Now, the father who should put 

little innocents could well lisp, put the bottle to the lips of his little 

the bottle to their lips and taught child, to form the appetite for liquor, 

them to love the drunkard's drink, would be regarded with horror. 



Then, the young man who daily 
visited the grogshop, was none the 
less welcomed by a prudent father to 
the hospitality of his family. 



Now, the young man who daily 
visits the grogshop, would be wel- 
comed by a prudent father to the 
hospitality of his family, as soon as 
he would take a viper to his bosom. 



We close this article with an extract from an eloquent address, by the 
Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon, upon the progress of the Temperance Idea. 

"The most interesting aspect in which the Temperance Reformation pre- 
sents itself to my mind is, as an illustration of the slow but sure and certain 
progress of one idea — of a simple, but great and just idea. That ide.a, when 
it was first announced, was announced in its legitimate coimectiou with 
Christianity — it came from the bosom of the Ghurch of God — it came from 
the head of Christianity. It was argued and proved with texts from the 
gospel of our Lord O'esus Ciirist, and the ciiisiles of the Apostles. Wu 
wondered, those of us who composed it at lli.U early period — wondered that 



250 ADVENTURES AND ACillEVEMENTS 

there should be so much resistiiico to it, and we ascribed it to the power of 
selfishness — for we saw in every direction, great interests — great commercial 
.ambition, and powerful political interests united against the progress of this 
idea. And yet, I apprehend, we ascribed too much of this resistance to the 
power of selfishness and interest. Wc ought to have remembert'd more dis- 
tinctly prohaps that great ideas, simple and commanding as they are, make 
but too slow progress to dominion over the minds of nations and individuals. 
You may convince an individual of the truth of an idea in conversation 
with him alone, but he does not stay convinced ; the sympathy between hi.'! 
mind and that of the vast multitude is too strong, and it is with vour argu- 
ment, as it fared with Cato, when he read "Plato on the Immortality of tho 
Soul," he was convinced and believed ; but when he had shut the book, he 
could not remember the force of reasoning in the argument ; — it is therefore 
in this way — on this principle — that truth, simple and commanding as it 
may be, makes but slow progress toward dominion over communities and 
nations. 

Let us now look for a moment at the effects and results of the progress 
of this idea. An idea to many peopile is a particular conformation of the 
skull, an incomprehensible thing. An idea ! Why, they never saw it ! 
How large is it? They want to put their fingers on it, or judge in some 
such way as this. An idea is a spiritual substance simply, and they cannot 
see it or feel it, unless it be of the nature of ardent spirits. An idea ! It's 
an idea wrought out and applied, that has brought the continent of Europe 
within twelve days' distance of the continent of America ; it was the idea 
oJ steam navigation. 

It was an idea in the mind of Fulton that created the first steamboat that 
plied the North River. This same idea changes the face of nature. Any 
man v.-ho is familiar with the landscape, in any part of the country, for the 
last twenty years, certainly any one familiar with New England, knows that 
it has wrought great changes upon the fair face of the countr}-, for evcnyone 
is remarking upon the increased beauty of the New England landscape. 

The neatness and simplicity of the farm-house strike the eye of the 
traveler as he passes by — there is more beatity in the fields, the very grass 
grows greener and richer than twenty years ago ; and the windows of the 
pretty cottages are festooned with plants and flowers that shed their sweet 
fragrance around the dwelling. What is the cause of it ? Cold water — it 
is this that has thrown off from the shoulders of the farmer, and the laborer 

a prodigious taxation he was w'ont to pay 

Oh ! bow will the land smile when this idea shall have wrought all its 
ti'iumphs ; from the farthest north and east, over all those broad and waving 
jirairies, even beyond the Hocky Mountains, to where the streams of the 
west mingle with the ocean. 

And when this idea, the emanation of Christianity, proceeding from the 
Church of God, shall have reformed the people, how will Christianity itself 
regenerate this reformed and happy people ! — a reformed and happy world ! 
God will shower his blessings like rain upon the fruitful field." 



THE PRETENDED DESERTION 



JOHN C H A M P E 



TO THE BRITISH, IN THE WAR OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. FOR THE PURPOSE OF 



CAPTURING THE TRAITOK, BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



John Champe, Sergerint-Major of Lee'.s Legion of Virginia Light Horse, 
in the Eevohitionary war, was selected to undertalie a very perilous and 
difficult project, which is thus well and fully narrated in "Lee's Jlenioirs :" 

The treason of Brigadier Arnold, — the capture of Andre, — with intelli- 
gence received by Washington, through his confidential agents in New York, 
communicating that many of his officers, and especially a major-general 
named to him, were connected with Arnold, — could not fail to seize the 
attention of a commander even less diligent and zealous than Washington. 
It engrossed his mind entirely, exciting reflections the most anxious as 
well as unpleasant. 

To Major Lee, afterward lieutenant-colonel of the legion of cavalry fur 
whom he had sent, he said, " I have sent for you, in the expectation that 
you have in your corps individuals capable and willing to undertake an 
indispensable, delicate, and hazardous project. Whoever comes forward 
upon this occasion, will lay me under great obligations personally, and in 
behalf of the United States I will reward him amply. No time i.s to be 
lost ; he must proceed, if possible, this night. My object is to probe to 
tlie bottom the afflicting intelligence contained in the papers you have just 
read ; to seize Arnold, and by getting him, to save Andre. They are all 
connected. While my emissary is engaged in preparing means for the 
seizure of Arnold, the guilt of others can be traced ; and the timely de- 
livery of Arnold to me, will possibly put it into my power to restore the 
amiable and unfortunate Andre to his friends. My instructions are ready, 
in which you will find my express orders that Arnold is not to be hurt ; but 
that he be permitted to escape if to be prevented only by killing him, as 
his public punishment is the sole object in view. This you cannot too 
forcibly press upon whomsoever may engage in the enterprise ; and this 
fail not to do. With my instructions are two letters, to be delivered as 
ordered, and here are some guineas for expenses." 

Major Lee replying, said that he had little or no doubt but that his legion 
contained many individuals daring enough for any operation, however per- 
ilous ; but tluit the one in view required a combination of qualities not 

(151) 



>253 ADVEKTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

cfusily lo be found unless in a commissioned ofSoer, to whom he could not 
venture to propose an enterprise, the first step to which was desertion. 
That thouj;h the sergeant-major of the cavalry was in all respects qualified 
for the delicate and adventurous project, and to him it might be projiosed 
without indelicacy, as his station did not interpose the obstacle before 
stated ; yet it was very probable that the same difficulty would occur in his 
breast, to remove which would not be easy, if practicable. 

Washington was highly pleased at finding that a non-commissioned 
officer was deemed capable of executing his views ; as he had felt extreme 
difSculty in authorizing an invitation to officers, who generally are, and 
always ought to be, scrupulous and nice in adhering to the course of honor. 
He ashed the name, the country, the age, the size, length of service, and 
character of the sergeant. Being told his name, — that he was a native of 
Loudon county, in Virginia; about twenty-throe or twenty-four years of 
age, — that he had enlisted in 1776, — rather above the common size, — full 
of bone and muscle ; with a saturnine counteuance, grave, thoughtful, and 
taciturn, — of tried courage, and inflexible perseverance, and as likely to 
reject an overture coupled with ignominy as any officer in the corps ; a com- 
mission being the goal of his long and anxious exertions, and certain on 
the first vacancy ; — the general exclaimed, that he was the very man for the 
business ; that he must undertake it ; and that going to the enemy by the 
instigation and at the request of his officer, was not desertion, although it 
appeared to be so. And he enjoined that this explanation, as comiug 
from him, should be pressed on Champe ; and that the vast good in pros- 
pect should be contrasted with the mere semblance of doing wrong, which 
he presumed could not fail to conquer every scruple. Major Lee, sending 
instantly for the sergeant-major, introduced the business in the way best 
calculated, as he thought, to produce his concurrence. Observing that the 
chance of detection became extremely narrow, and consequently that of 
success erilarged. That by succeeding in the safe deliver}' of Arnold, he 
not only gratified his general in the most acceptable manner, but he would 
be hailed as the avenger of the reputation of the army, stained by foul and 
wicked perfidy ; and what could not but be highly pleasing, he would be 
the instrument of saving the life of Major Andre, soon to be brought before 
a court of inquiry, the decision of which could not be doubted, from th-e 
universally known circumstances of the case, and had been anticipated in 
the general's instructions. That, by investigating with diligence and accu- 
racy the intelligence communicated to him, he would bring to light new- 
guilt, or he would leliove innocence (as was most probable) from distrust; 
quieting the torturing suspicions which now harrowed the mind of Wash- 
ington, and restoring again to his confidence a once honored general, possess- 
ing it at present onl}' ostensibly, as well as hush doubts affecting many of 
his brother soldiers. 

This discourse was followed by a detail of the plan, with a wish that he 
would enter upon its execution instantly. Champe listened with deep at- 
tention, and with a highly excited countenance ; the perturbations of his 
breast not being hid even by his dark visage. He briefly and modestly re- 
plied, that no soldier exceeded him in respect and atlcction fur the cou> 
mandcr-in-chief, to serve whom he would willingly lay down his life ; and 



OF AMERICANS. 253 

tliat he was sensible of the honor conferred by the choice of him for the 
execution of a project all over arduous ; nor could he bo at a loss to know 
to whom was to.be ascribed the preference bestowed, which he took plea- 
sure in acknowledging, although increasing obligations before great and 
many. He was not, he said, deterred by the danger and difficulty which 
was evidently to be encountered, but he was deterred by the ignominy of 
desertion, to be followed by the hypocrisy of enlisting with the enemy ; 
neither of which comported with his feelings, and either placed an in- 
superable bar in his way to promotion. He concluded by observing, that if 
an}- mode could be contrived free from disgrace, he would cordially embark 
in the enterprise. As it was, he prayed to be excused ; and hoped that 
services, always the best in his power to perform, faithfully performed, en- 
titled his prayer to success. 

Major Lee entreated the sergeant to ask himself what must be the reflec- 
tions of his comrades, if a soldier from some other corps should execute 
the attempt, when they should be told that the glory transferred to the regi- 
ment of which he was one, might have been enjoyed by the legion, had 
not Sergeant Champe shrunk from the overture made to him by his general 
rather than reject scruples too narrow and confined to be permitted to inter- 
fere with grand and virtuous deeds. The esprit da corps could not be re- 
sisted ; united to his inclination, it subdued his prejudices, and he declared 
his willingness to conform to the wishes of the general ; relying, as ho con- 
fidently did, that his reputation would be protected by those who had in- 
duced him to undertake the enterprise, should he be unfortunate. The in- 
structions were read to him, and each distinct object presented plainly to 
his view, of which he took notes so disguised as to be understood only by 
himself. He was particularly cautioned to use the utmost circumspection 
in delivering his letters, and to take care to withhold from the two indi- 
viduals, addressed under feigned names, knowledge of each other; for al- 
though both had long been in the confidence of the general, yet it was not 
known by either that the other was so engaged. He was further urged, to 
bear in constant recollection the solemn injunction so pointedly cxi)ressed 
in the instructions to Major Lee, of forbearing to kill Arnold in any con- 
dition of things. 

This part of the business being finished, their deliberation -was turned to 
the manner of Champe's desertion ; for it was well known to them both 
that to pass the numerous patrols of horse and foot crossing from the sta- 
tionary guards, was itself diflicult, which was now rendered more so by 
parties thrown occasionally beyond the place called Liberty Pole, as well as 
by swarms of irregulars, induced sometimes to venture down to the very 
point at Powdes-Hook, with the hope of picking up booty. Evidently dis- 
cernible as were the difficulties in the way, no relief could be administered 
by Major Lee, lest it might induce a belief that ho was privy to the deser- 
tion, which opinion getting to the enemy would involve the life of Champe. 
The sergeant was left to his own resources and to his own management, 
with the declared determination, that in case his departure should be dis- 
covered before morning, Lee would take care to delay pursuit as long as 
practicable. 

Giving to the sergeant three guineas, and presenting his best wishes, ho 



2:4 ADVIONTUIIES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

recommended liim to start without delay, and enjoined him to communi- 
cate his arrival in New York as soon as he could. Charape pulling out his 
watch, compared it with the major's, reminding the latter of the impor- 
tance of holding back pursuit, which he was convinced would take place 
in the course of the night, and which might be fatal, as he knew that he 
should be obliged to zigzag in order to avoid the patrols, whicn would 
consume time. It was now nearly eleven. The sergeant returned to camp, 
and taking his cloak, valise and orderly book, he drew his horse from the 
picket, and mounting him put himself upon fortune. 

Within half an hour Captain Carnes, officer of the day, waited upon the 
major, and with considerable emotion told him that one of the patrol had 
fallen in with a dragoon, who, being challenged, put spur to his horse and 
escaped, though instantly pursued. Lee, complaining of the i-«iterruption, 
and jiretending to be extremely fatigued by his ride to and from head- 
quarters, answered as if he did not understand what had been said, which 
compelled the captain to repeat it. Who can the fellow that was i:)ursued 
be ? inquired the major ; adding, a countryman, probably. No, replied the 
captain, the patrol sufficiently distinguished him to know that he was 
a dragoon ; probably one from the army, if not certainly one of our Own, 
This idea was ridiculed from its improbability, as during the whole war 
but a single dragoon had deserted from the legion. This did not convince 
Carnes, so much stress was it now the fashion to lay on the desertion of 
Arnold, and the probable effect of his example. Tue captain withdrew to 
examine the squadron of horse, whom he had ordered to assemble in p>ur- 
suance of establisheil usage on similar occasions. Very quickly he returned, 
stating that the scoundrel was known, and was no less a person than the 
sergeant-major, who had gone off with his horse, baggage, arms and orderly 
book, — as neither the one nor the other could be found. Sensibly affected 
at the supposed baseness of a soldier extremely respected, the captain 
added that he had ordered a party to make ready for pursuit, and begged 
the major's written orders. 

Occasionally this discourse was interrupted, and every idea suggested 
which the excellent character of the sergeant warranted, to induce the sus- 
picion that he had not deserted, but had taken the liberty to leave camp 
with a view to personal pleasure ; an example, too often set by the officers 
themselves, destructive as it was of discipline, opposed as it was to orders, 
and disastrous as it might prove to the corps in the course of service. Some 
little delay was thus interposed ; but it being now announced that the pur- 
suing party was ready. Major Lee directed a change in the officer, saying 
that he had a particular service in view, which he had determined to in- 
trust to the lieutenant ready for duty, and which, probably, must be per- 
formed in the morning. He therefore directed him to summon Cornet 
Middlelon for the present command. Major Lee was induced thus to act, 
first to add to the dela}', and next from his knowledge of the tenderness of 
Middleton's disposition, which he hoped would lead to the protection of 
Charape, should he be taken. Within ten minutes Middletou appeared to 
receive his orders, which were delivered to him made out in the customary 
form, and signed by the major. " Pursue so far as you can with safety Ser- 
geant Champc, who is suspected of deserting to the cnemj', and has taken 



OF AMERICANS. 255 

tbe road leading to Powles-Hook. Bring him alive, that ho may suffer in the 
presence of the army; but kill him if he resists or escapes after being taken." 

Detaining the cornet a few minutes longer in advising him what course 
to pursue, — urging him to take care of the horse and accoutrements, if re- 
covered, — and enjoining him to be on his guard, lest he might, by his eager 
jmrsnit, iniprovidcntly fall into the hands of the enemy, — the major dis- 
missed Middleton, wishing him success. A shower of rain fell soon after 
Ohampe's departure, which enabled the pursuing dragoons to take the trail 
of his horse ; knowing, as officer and trooper did, tbe make of their shoet, 
the impression of which, was an unerring guide. 

The horses being all shod by our own farriers, the shoes were made in 
the same form, which with a private mark annexed to the fore-shoes, and 
known to the troopers, pointed out the trail of our dragoons to each other, 
which was often very useful. 

When Middleton departed it was a few minutes past twelve ; so that 
Champe had only the start of rather more than an hour, — by no means as 
long as was desired. The pursuing party during the night, was, on their 
part, delayed by the necessary halts to examine occasionally the road, as 
the impression of the horse's shoes directed their course ; this was unfortu- 
nately too evident, no other horse having passed along the road since the 
shower. When the day broke, Middleton was no longer forced to halt, and 
he pressed on with rapidity. Ascending an eminence before he reached the 
Three Pigeons, some miles on the north of the village of Bergen, as the 
pursuing party reached its summit, Champo was descried not more than 
half a mile in front. Resembling an Indian in his vigilance, the sergeant at 
the same moment discovered the party, to whose object he was no stranger, 
and giving spur to his horse, he determined to outstrip his pursuers. Mid- 
dleton at the same instant put his horses to the top of their speed ; and 
being, as the legion all were, well acquainted with the country, he recol- 
lected a short route through the woods to the bridge below Bergen, which 
diverged from the great road just after you gain the Three Pigeons. Pleach- 
ing the point of separation, be halted ; and dividing his jmrty, directed a 
sergeant with a few dragoons to take the near cut, and pobsess with all pos- 
sible dispatch the bridge, while he with the residue followed Champe; not 
doubting but that Champe must deliver himself up, as he would be closed 
between himself and his sergeant. Champe did not forget tlie short cut, 
and W(uild have taken it himsell', but he knew it was the usual route of 
our parties when returning in the day from the neighborhood of the enemy, 
properly preferring the woods to the road. lie consequently avoided it ; 
and persuaded that Middleton would avail himself of it, wisely resolved to 
relinquish his intention of getting to Powles-Hook, and to seek refuge from 
two British galleys, lying a few miles to the west of Bergen. 

This was a station always occupied by one or two galley.s, and, which 
it was known now laj' there. Entering the village of Bergon, Champe 
turned to his right, and disguising liis change of course as much as ho could 
by taking the beaten street.s, turning as they turned, ho passed through the 
village and took the road toward Elizabelhtown Point. Middleton's ser- 
geant gained the bridge, where he concealed himself, ready to pounce upon 
Champe when lie came up ; and Middleton pursuing his course through 



25G ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Bergcr, soon got also to the bridge, when, to his extreme mortification, he 
found that the sergeant had sHpped through his fingers. Eeturning up tho 
road, he inquired of the villagers of Bergen, whether a dragoon had been 
seen that morning ahead of his party. He was answered in the nfBrmative, 
but could learu nothing satisfactory as to the route he tooli. While en- 
gaged in inquiries himself, he spread his party through the village to strilfe 
the trail of Champe's horse, a resort always jecurred to. Some of his dra- 
goons hit it just as the sergeant, leaving the village, got in the road to the 
Point. PiH-suit was renewed with vigor, and again Champe was descried. 
He, apprehending the event, had prepared himself for it, by lashing his 
valise (containing his clothes and orderly book) on his shoulders, and 
holding his drawn sword in his hand, having thrown away the scabbard. 
This he did to save what was indispensable to him, and to prevent any 
interruption to his swimming, should Middleton, as he presumed, when dis- 
appointed at the bridge, take the measures adopted b\' him. The pursuit 
was rapid and close, as the stop occasioned by the sergeant's preparations for 
swimming had brought Middleton within two or three hundred yards. As 
soon as Champe got abreast of the two galleys, he dismounted, and running 
through the marsh to the river, plunged into it, calling upon the gallej'S for 
help. This was readily given ; they tired upon our horse, and sent a boat 
to meet Champe, who was taken in and carried on board and conveyed 
to New York, with a letter from the captain of the galley, stating the cir- 
cumstances he had seen. 

The horse with his equipments, the sergeant's cloak and scabbard, were 
recovered; the sword itself being hold by Champe until he plunged in the 
river, was lost, as Lliddleton found it necessary to retire without searching 
for it. About three o'clock in the evening our party returned, and the sol- 
diers seeing the well known horse in our possession, made the air resound 
with exclamations that the scoundrel was killed. Major Lee called by this 
heart-rending annunciation from his tent, saw the sergeant's horse led by 
one of Middleton's dragoons, and began to reproach himself with the blood 
of the high prized, faithful and intrepid Champe. Stifling his agony he 
advanced to meet Middleton, and became somewhat relieved as soon as 
he got near enough to discern the countenance of his officer and party. 
There was evidence in their looks of disappointment, and he was quickly 
relieved by Middleton's information that the sergeant had effected his escape 
with the loss of his horse, and nairated the particulars just recited. Never 
was a. happier conclusion. The sergeant escaped unhurt, carrying with him 
to the enemy undeniable testimony of the sincerity of his desertion, — can- 
celing every apprehension before entertained, lest the enemy might suspect 
him of being what he really was. Major Lee imparted to the commander- 
in-chief the occurrence, who was sensibly affected by the hair-breadth escape 
of Champe, and anticipated with pleasure the good etfect sure to follow the 
enemy's knowledge of its manner. On the fourth day after Champe's de- 
parture. Major Lee received a letter from him, written the day before in ii 
disguised hand, without any signature, and stating what had passed after 
he got on board the galley, where he was kindly received. 

He was carried to the commandant of New York as soon as he arrived, 
and presented the letter addressed to this officer from the captain of the 



OF AMERICANS. 257 

galley. Being asked to what coi-ps he belonged, and a few other common 
questions, he was sent under care of an orderly sergeant to the adjutant- 
general, who, finding that he was sergeant-major of the legion horse, here- 
tofore remarkable for their fidelity, began to interrogate him. He was told 
bj Champs, that .such was the spirit of defection which prevailed among 
the American troops in consequence of Arnold's example, that he had no 
doubt, if the temper was properly cherished Washington's ranks would not 
only be greatly thinned, but that .some of his best corps would leave Lira. 
To this conclusion, the sergeant said, he was led by his own observations, 
and especially by his knowledge of the discontents which agitated the corps 
to which he had belonged. His size, place of birth, form, countenance, 
hair, the corjis in which he had served, with other remarks, in conformity 
to the British usage, was noted down. After this was finished, he was sent 
to the commander-in-chief, in charge of one of the staff, with a letter from 
the adjutant-general. Sir Henry Clinton treated him very kindly, and de- 
tained him more than one hour, asking him many questions, all leading, — 
first to know to what extent this spirit of defection might be pushed by 
proper incitements, — what the most operating incitements, — whether any 
general officers were suspected by Washington as concerned in Arnold's con- 
spiracy, or an}' other officers of note ; — who they were, and whether the 
troops approved or censurod Washington's suspicions ; — whether his popu- 
larity in the army was sinking, or continued stationary ? What was Major 
Andre's situation, — whether any change had taken place in the manner of 
his confinement, — what was the current opinion of his probable fate, — and 
wdiether it was thought Washington would treat him as a spy ? To these va- 
rious interrogations, some of which were perplexing, Champe answered wa- 
rily ; exciting, nevertheless, hopes that the adoption of proper measures to 
encourage desertion (of which he could not protend to form an opinion) 
would certainly bring off hundreds of the American soldiers, including some 
of the best troops, horse as well as foot. Respecting the fate of Andre, ho 
said he was ignorant, though there appeared to be a general wish in the 
army that his life should not be taken ; and that he believed it would de- 
pend more upon the disposition of Congress, than 'on the will of Wash- 
ington. 

After this long conversation ended. Sir Henry presented Champe with a 
couple of guineas, and recommended him to wait upon General Arnold, 
who was engaged in raising an American legion in the service of his ma- 
jesty. He directed one of his aids to write to Arnold by Champe, statin" 
who he was, and what he said about the disposition in the army to follow 
his example ; which being soon done, the letter was given to the orderly at- 
tending on Champe to be presented with the deserter to General Arnold. 
Arnold expressed much satisfaction on hearing from Champe the manner of 
his escape, and the effect of his [Arnold's] example ; and conclmled his 
numerous inquiries by assigning quarters to the sergeant, — the same as were 
occupied by his recruiting sergeants. 

He also proposed to Champe to join his legion, telling him he would give 
him the same station he had held in the rebel service, and promising further 
advancement when merited. Expressing his wish to retire from war, and 
his conviction of the certainty nf his being hung if ever tak«n bv th« 



25S adv]:n;tures axd achievements 

rebels, lie begged to be excused from enlistment; assuring the general, 
that should ho change his mind, he would certainly accept his offer. Re- 
tiring to his quarters Chaiiipe now turned his attention to the delivery of 
his letters, which he could not effect until the next night, and then only to 
one of the two incogniti to whom he was recommended. This man re- 
ceived the sergeant with extreme attention, and having read the letter, as- 
sured Champe that he might rely on his faithful co-operation in everything 
in his power consistent with his safety, to guard which required the utmost 
prudence and circumspection. The sole object in which the aid of this 
individual was required, regarded the general and others of our army, im- 
plicated in the information sent to Washington by him. To this object 
Chanipo urged his attention ; assuring him of the solicitude it had excited, 
and telling him that its speedy investigation had induced the general to 
send him in to New York. Promising to enter upon it with zeal, and en- 
gaging to send out Champe's letters to Major Lee, he fixed the time and 
place for their next meeting, when they separated. 

Major Lee made known to the general what had been transmitted to him 
by Champe, and received in answer directions to press Champe to the ex- 
peditious conclusion of his mission ; as the fate of Andre would be soon 
decided, when little or no delay could be admitted in executing whatever 
sentence the court might decree. The same messenger who brought 
Champe's letter, returned with the ordered communication. Five da3's had 
nearly elapsed after reaching New York, before Champe saw the confidant 
to whom only the attempt against Arnold was to be intrusted. This per- 
son entered with promptitude into the design, promising his cordial assist- 
ance. To procure a proper associate for Champe was the first object, and 
this ho promised to do with all possible dispatch. Furnishing a conveyance 
to Major Lee, to whom Champe stated that he had that morning (the last 
of September) been appointed one of Arnold's recruiting sergeants, havinf 
enlisted the day before with Arnold ; and that he was induced to take this 
afflicting step, for the purpose of securing uninterrupted ingress and ei^ress 
to the house which the gencr.al occupied ; it being indispensable to a speedv 
conclusion of the difficult enterprise which the information he had just re- 
ceived had so forcibly urged. He added, that the difiioulties in his wav 
were numerous and stubborn, and that his prospect of success was by no 
means cheering. With respect to the additional treason, he asserted that 
he had every reason to believe that it was groundless ; that the report took 
its rise in the enemy's camp, and that he hoped soon to clear up that mat- 
ter satisfactorily. The pleasure which the last part of this communication 
afforded, was damped by the tidings it imparted respecting Arnold, as on 
his speedy delivery depended Andre's relief. The interposition of Sir 
Henry Clinton, who was extremely anxious to s.ave his aid-de-camp, still 
continued ; and it was expected the examination of witnesses and the ile- 
fense of the prisoner, would protract the decision of the court of inquirv 
now assembled, .and give sufficient time for the consummation of the project 
committed to Champe. A complete disappointment took place from a 
quarter unforeseen and unexpected. The honorable and accomplished 
Andro, knowing his guilt, disdained defense, and prevented the examina- 
tion of witnesses by confessing the character in which he stood. Oil the 



OF AMERICANS. 259 

next day (the 2l1 of October), the court again assembled ; when every doubt 
that could possibly arise in the case having been removed by the previous 
confession, Andre was declared to be a spy, and condemned to suffer accord- 
ingly. The sentence was executed on the subsequent day in the usual 
form, the commander-in-chief deeming it improper to interpose any delay. 
The fate of Andre, hastened by himself, deprived the enterprise com- 
mitted to Champe of a feature which had been highly prized by its pro- 
jector, and which had very much engaged the heart of the individual 
chosen to execute it. 

Champe deplored the sad necessity which had occurred, and candidly con- 
fessed that the hope of enabling Washington to save the life of Andro, 
(who had been the subject of universal commiseration in the American 
camp), greatly contributed to remove the serious difficulties which opposed 
his acceding to the proposition when first propounded. Some documents 
accompanied this communication tending to prove the innocence of the 
accused general ; they were completely satisfactory, and did credit to the 
discrimination, zeal, and diligence of the sergeant. Nothing remained to 
be done, but the seizure and safe delivery of Arnold. To this subject 
Champe gave his undivided attention. Ten days elapsed before Champe 
brought his measures to a conclusion, wlien Major Lee received from him his 
final communication, appointing the third subsequent night for a party of 
dragoons to meet him at Iloboken, when he hoped to deliver Arnold to the 
officer. Champe had from his enlistment into the American legion (Arnold's 
corps) every opportunity he could wish, to attend to the habits of the general, 
lie discovered that it was his custom to return home about twelve every 
night, and that previous to going to bed he always visited the garden. Dur- 
ing this visit the conspirators were to seize him, and being prepared with a 
gag, intended to have applied the same instantly. 

Adjoining the house in which Arnold resided, and that in which it was 
designed to seize and gag him, Champe had tal;en ofl' several of the jjalings 
and replaced them, so that with care and without noise he could readily 
open his way to the adjoining alley. Into this alley he meant to have con- 
veyed his prisoner, aided by his companion, one of two associates who had 
been introduced by the friend to whom Champe had been originally- made 
known by letter from the commander-in-chief, and with whose aid and 
counsel he had so far conducted the enterprise. His other associate was 
with the boat prepared at one of the wharves on the Hudson River, to re- 
ceive the party. Champe and his friend intended to have placed them- 
selves each under Arnold's shoulder, and to have thus borne him through 
the most unfrequented alle3's and streets to the boat ; representing Arnold, 
in case of being questioned, as a drunken soldier, whom they were con- 
voying to the guard-house. When arrived at the boat the difficulties would 
be all surmounted, there being no danger nor obstacle in passing to the 
Jersey shore. The day arrived, and Major Lee with a party of dragoons 
left camp late in the evening, with three led horses : one for Arnold, one for 
the sergeant, and the third for the associate, never doubting the success of 
the enterprise, from the tenor of the last received communication. The 
party readied Hoboken about midnight, where they were concealed in the 
adjoining woods, — Lee. with three draaonns, stationing himself near the 
~17 



200 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

river shore. Hour after hour passed, — no boat approached. At length the 
day brohe and the major retired to his party, and with his led horses re- 
turned to camp, when he proceeded to head-quarters to inform the general 
of the disappointment, as mortifying as inexplicable. 

In a few days, Major Lee received an anonymous letter from Champe'8 
patron and friend, informing him that on the day previous to the night fixed 
for the execution of the plot, Arnold had removed his quarters to another 
jjart of the town, to superintend the embarkation of troops, preparing (as 
was rumored) for an expedition to be directed by himself; and that the 
American legion, consisting chiefly of deserters, had been transferred from 
their barracks to one of the transports ; it being apprehended that if left on 
shore until the expedition was ready, many of them might desert. Thus 
it happened that John Chanipe, instead of crossing the Hudson that night, 
was safely deposited on board one of the fleet of transports, from whence 
he never departed until the troops under Arnold landed in Virginia. Nor 
was he able to escape from the British army until after the junction of Lord 
Cornwallis at Petersburgh, when he deserted ; and jjroceoding high up into 
Virginia, ho passed into North Carolina near the Saura Towns, and keep- 
ing in the friendly districts of that State, safely joined the army soon after 
it had passed the Gongaree in pursuit of Lord Rawdon. 

His appearance excited extreme surprise among his former comrades, 
which was not a little increased when they saw the cordial reception he 
met with from Lieutenant-Colonel Lee. His whole story soon became 
known to the corps, which reproduced the love and respect of officer and 
soldier, heightened by universal admiration of his daring and arduous 
attempt. 

Champe was introduced to General Greene, who cheerfully complied with 
the promises made by the commander-in-chief, as far as in his power ; and 
having provided the sergeant with a good horse and money for his journey, 
sent him to General Washington, who munificently anticipated every de- 
sire of the sergeant, and presented him with a discharge from further ser 
vice, lest he might in the vicissitudes of war, fall into the enemy's hands 
when, if recognized, he was sure to die on a gibbet. 

When General Washington was called by President Adams to the com- 
mand of the army, prepared to defend the country from French hostility, 
he sent to Lieutenant-Colonel Lee to inquire for Champe ; being determined 
to bring him into the field at the head of a company of infantry. Colonel 
Lee sent to Loudon county, Virginia, where Champe settled after his dis- 
charge from the army, but learned that the gallant soldier had removed to 
Kentucky, whe.'o he soon after died. 



NARRATIVE 

OP THE 

LAND AND SEA PERILS 

OF 

ANDREW SHERBURNE, 



tN THE WAR OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, IN'CLUDING HIS SUFFERINGS IN OLD MILL 
PRISON. ENGLAND. AND AFTERWARD IN THE OLD JERSEY PRISON SHIP AT THE 
WALLABOUT, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK. WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK BY ANIlREW 
DICKINSON. 



Andrew Sherburne was born at Eye, once a part of Portsmouth, New 
Hampshire, September 30, 1765. He describes his childhood as dotted 
over with mi.sfortnncs. He was about twelve years old, at that period of 
our revoUitiorary history, when the American siMrit -was fully developed by 
the battles of Bunker Hill and Lexington. He caught the spirit of the 
times ; yet he owns that he was influenced, at first, more by a love of ex- 
citement and heroic adventure, than any rational feeling of patriotism. He 
longed to be old enough to take part in the conflict. The discipline of 
military drills, in those troublous times, was not lost upon boys of even 
seven or eight years. They would form into companies, with plumes and 
wooden guns, and their martial exercises were as exact as those of the men. 
When two or three boys happened to meet in the street, their military 
powers were tested by pitching into each other with sticks, instead of 
wooden guns. Meanwhile ships were building, privateers fitting out, prizes 
brought in, standards waving on forts and batteries ; while the exercising of 
soldiers, the roar of cannon, the sound of martial music, and the call for 
volunteers, completely infatuated him. His brother Thomas had returned 
from a cruise in the General Mifflin, which had taken thirteen prizes : this 
was another temptation. Our young hero was so much excited, that he 
was often heard talking in his sleep by his mother. Such are some of the 
dreams of glory and riches that infatuate youth, and, alas! too many 
childn n of a larger growth. His parents were in continual fear of his 
wandering aw.ay and getting on board a vessel without their consent ; for it 
was a common thing for country lads to step on board of a privateer, and 
sometimes return home from a cruise ; their friends being ignorant of their 
fate till they hoard it from themselves. Others would pack up their clothes, 
and with a cheese and a loaf, start for the array, without taking one look at 
tlie dark side of things ; indeed to them there appeared no dark side. The 
prevalence of this rash spirit, however, kept up the spirits of the despond- 
ing, and helped the country to make a successful struggle for liberty. 



202 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

At last his father consented that Andrew should go to sea in the Eangpr 
a ship-of-war of eighteen guns, though he was not yet fourteen. Privateer- 
ing was the order of the day. This resolution deprived him of the advan- 
tages of instruction. He bad a vile habit of swearing, in which he then 
allowed himself; an inexcusable vice, which he endeavored to atone for by 
praying very hard when he turned in at night. He went to sea in June, 
1779. His associates being raw and undisciplined in sea life, and very sea- 
sick, occasioned much ridicule and merriment by tlie sailors. 

One morning a man at the foretopmast-hcad cried out, "A sail! a sail! 
on the lee-bow — and another tliere, and there !" The young officers ran up 
the shrouds, and, with their sjiyglasses, soon discovered over fifty vessels of 
war! many more prizes than they could take. They were now liliel}' to 
have fighting to their heart's content. Theoe vessels were but a part of the 
Jamaica fleet, of one hundred and fifty line-of-battle ships and sloops-of- 
war! The sight greatly alarmed our crew, and well it might. They could 
distinctly see their lights, and hear their bells. The fog was very thick, by 
which means they had the good luck to escape. Up to this time they had 
taken but two prizes ; Sherburne's share of the si)0ils being about $101). 

In a few weeks al'ter his return from this voyage, he and his comrades 
had to betake themselves to the ships. And though it migl;t seem 
imraanly to shed tears, yet the downcast, saddened look of a fond mother 
and sisters proved too much for Andrew. We next find him and his little 
squadron chasing a British ship, near the coast of Charleston. The Eanger 
attacked a small British battery on James' Island, and, after a severe can- 
nonading, the enemy's guns were silenced. At the beginning of this 
battle, Andrew was excessively alarmed ; but, like the redoubtable Gil 
Bias, cleverly managed to hide his fears from his associates. In another 
onset they were defeated. Captain Simpson and the Ranger's force were 
much exposed to the fire of the British. Sherburne relates : 

"While part of the officers and myself occupied an elegant house of 
Colonel Gadsden, a bomb fell through the roof and burst in the cellar, 
luckily hurting no one. Another fell within two feet of me ; but I threw 
myself behind the carriage, and escaped. Another burst over my head, and 
a large piece buried itself in the turf at my feet. * A cannon ball struck the 
house, passing within two feet of me. Bullets flew like hail in every direc- 
tion. Bricks and plaster fairly darkened the air; and shells fell over the 
city in a perfect shower : a dozen might bo seen falling at once. The 
seige was closely pressed, and we were in great fear of our works being 
carried by storm. Finally we were obliged to capitulate on the 12th of 
May, 1780. The day after this battle, a dreadful accident occurred. While 
the British were depositing the muskets taken from us in the grand maga- 
zine, which was bomb proof, the powder in it exploded. The shock was 
like an earthquake, and a great many were instantly swept into eternity. I 
saw the print of a man's body, who had been dashed against a brick 
church thirty feet abjve the ground, and thirty rods from the magazine. 
The cause of this explosion was never known." 

Sherburne was now a prisoner. On his return home, after his imprison- 
roent, he was worn down with sickness and misfortune. Before he reached 
home, he heard of his father's death. On his way, with bis little budget in 



OF AMERICANS. 263 

hand, he wept bitterly, uiul till his tears were exhausted. His poor mother 
was now a widow; and his brother Thomas, once so flushed with success, 
had not returned. Alas ! he never did return. As Andrew passed a house 
in Lyme, he was noticed by a woman standing at the door. She was im- 
mediately joined by another tender-hearted riiothcr. Uoth had sons in the 
army, and might have had some hope of seeing or hearing of tliem. Thoy 
stood over him and wept in silence, meditating on the fate of their sons. 
It was an hour of bitter sorrow ! The best their houses afforded, was pro- 
vided for the youthful wanderer. In a week more he reached Portsmouth, 
wliere he found his widowed and mourning mother. A scene like this, 
with its changes in one year, can neither be described nor imagined. 

Sherburne shall hereafter speak for himself in the remainder of thi.s 
narrative. 

My mother was industriously employed in spinning, knitting, and sewing 
for others, as a means of support for her children. She would sit at her 
wheel for hours, diligent and pensive, witliout uttering a word ; and now 
and then tears would roll down her cheeks, and she would break silence by 
the narration of some event that took place in her father's day of prosperity. 

As the Ranger was built in Portsmouth, and had fallen into the hands of 
the enemy, the patriotic merchants of that place were anxious to retrieve 
their loss. They built another beautiful ship of twenty guns, called the 
Alexander, and gave Captain Simpson the command. A considerable 
number of the Ranger's officers and men occupied the same station, as 
formerly, in this new ship. I was invited by the captain to try my fortune 
in her again, and readily accepted the offer. We sailed from Portsmouth iu 
December, 1780, and during a cruise of three months, took nothing. We 
never gave chase without coming up with an enemy, though we never met 
in battle. Befere we reached home we were reduced to half allowance, and 
sufferi-d greatly for w-ater. I had left my mother a power of attorney to 
sell any part of my share she might require, by which means she was pro- 
vided with a cow, fuel, and other necessaries. 

On my arrival I found my mother and sisters well, but tiiere was no news 
from my brother Thomas. I now began to feel as if the care of the family 
would devolve on me. My neighbors extolled me for my attentions, and 
this made me more ambitious. 

The Alexander was the best and fastest sailing vessel I ever saw, and it 
need not be wondered at if I should be invited to make a second voyage. 
However, while one day walking in the street, I was recognized by one of 
Neptune's frj-, with the salutation, "Don't you want to take a short cruise in 
a fine schooner, and make your fortune ? " Making one's " fortune," was a 
matter of course ; yet what kind of fortune, remains to be seen. I answered 
tliat I should "go in the Alexander." "0," said he, "we shall be back 
before the Alexander will get ready to sail!" This young man was 
Captain Willis, of Kennebunk, Maine ; and his vessel was the Greyhound, 
fitted out at Salem, Massachusett.s. She mounted four pounders, was of 
sixty tuns burden, and made quite a warlike appearance. One Captain 
Arnold was the only person from Portsmouth going in her. He was prize- 
master, and anxious to have me join them. The others wore all strangers 
to me. I was then about sixteen. Many fair promises, beside a share of 



264 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

spoils, were made. Privateering was a very common thing, and was then 
sanctioned by public opinion, whatever may be said of it now. Having got 
on board, I was introduced to my new companions by Captain Willis, with a 
good deal of ceremony. He toolc me into the cabin, and I was much 
caressed by the ofBcers. I was invited to sing a song, and in the course of 
the evening, I entertained them with several. There was a good deal of 
management in all this ; for they found it very difficult to get hands, and 
they wished to have me get attached to them, so that my influence could 
secure others. The day after, we ran down to York, as it was needful for 
Captain Willis to form some plan to increase his numbers ; for he had poor 
success in Portsmouth. The plan was to get up a frolic at a public house, 
and lads and lasses wore invited for a country dance ! Rum, coffee, and 
other attractions, were freely spread out to bait the unwary — the devil's 
usual trap. Having but one fiddler, and the company being large, it was 
requisite to have dancing in more than one room. I was, therefore, in lieu 
of fiddler number two, selected by the ofBcers to sing for the other dancing 
department. This suited me, as I was no proficient in dancing. Every art 
and insinuation, however, only procured two recruits ! As might bo ex- 
pected, the nest daj' was one of the most melancholy I ever passed. The 
•floom, the horror, the despondency I felt, cannot be described by mortal 
tongue. I resolved to return home ; but in this resolution I could not 
obtain the least relief. The voyage before me looked as gloomy as death. 
It was " a horror of great darkness." Had I been in the middle of the ocean 
on a single plank, my situation would not seem more hopeless. In this 
forlorn situation, it came into my mind to go on board of the vessel and 
pniv. The people were mostly ashore ; and, after spending some time in 
contemplation, I attempted to pray. The gloom in some measure subsided. 
I then told the captain I had made up my mind to return home. He 
acknowledged my right to do so, but being unwilling to part with me, he 
got Captain Arnold and other officers to persuade me to remain another 
evening. I reluctantly consented. The evening was spent much like the 
last. Only one more hand was procured. The captain being satisfied that 
he would have no success here, determined to push farther eastward, 
having gained my consent to make the voyage. At Kennebunk and 
Falmouth our success was equally indifterent. I now very much regretted 
that I had ever seen the accursed Greyhound ; yet nobody was more to 
blame than myself. My melancholy and forebodings came upon me with 
renewed horror. Finally, I argued myself into a kind of unwilling resigna- 
tion to my hard fate. 

We visited Cape Porjroise, a place of little resort, except by coasters. 
There was by no means a dense population here. The visit of a vessel of 
so rakish an appearance as the Greyhound, with flaming flag and streaming 
pennants, was quite a novelty. The captain's barge was rowed with four 
oars only, and I had the honor of being steersman of this little craft ; and 
when we put off from alongside, the captain was honored with a gun and 
three cheers from the crew. This was something unusual ; but we were 
privateersmen. 

With such inadequate recruits we went to sea. When we were off 
Halifax we were chased by a topsail schooner, larger than oure. With a 



OF AMERICANS. 265 

fresh gale, and a heavy sea, and carrying sail so long, we were in great 
danger of our masts being carried away. The vessel chasing us was much 
faster than ours, and, of course, came up with us ; but, bclore she came up, 
wo were obliged to take in topsail. This devolved on me alone, aind 1 
narrowly escaped being thrown off the yard, which was only a spar, about 
the size of a m.an's leg, affording a feeble support. The pitching and rolling 
of the vessel rendered my situation perilous beyond conception. Millior,s 
would not induce me to run such a risk again ! The vessel in chase proved 
to be the Bloodhound, an American ! 

After this we ventured a peep into Halifax harbor, where we saw a ship, 
apparently in distress, trying to get into port. The British had found out 
some of our Yankee tricks, and so played one themselves. We hoped to 
make a prize of her, but our suspicions increased as we approached, and we 
drew off. No sooner had we changed course, however, than she made 
chase, which lasted several hours. By maneuvering and the fog, we happily 
escaped, but were in great danger of being completely outwitted. We had 
heard of rich prizes being taken here, but the captain thought it prudent to 
be off this ground altogether, and try our fortune on the eastern shore, near 
the mouth of the St. Lawrence. We had a trying time amid the islands, 
for we could look in no direction without seeing a sail. We soon found it 
necessary to speak to one of them. From their maneuvering, we suspected 
they were in league, and we were at a loss to determine whether they were 
friends or foes. None of them were as large as ours, and we thought we 
n.eed not fear any one of them singh' ; but if they should prove enemies, 
then the case would be somewhat different ! However, we finally ascer- 
tained they were all Americans. Next day we parted with this squadron, 
except one of them that agreed to accompany us, but we soon parted 
with her. 

AVe visited a cluster of islands called the Birds' Island, and gathered half 
a dozen bushels of the eggs of wild sroese, s-anncts, gulls, ducks, etc. It was 
interesting to observe the management of the feathered race. Their nests 
were as thick as hills of corn. There were low bushes, but no trees on these 
small islands. On landing, the birds took a general alarm, and would rise 
iu masse.s, as in remonstrance against our intrusion. The best of these 
eggs, however, were no very delicate morsel. I have seen a Newfoundland 
shallop almost loaded with them. 

^ear Fortune Bay we fell in with a Newfoundland shallop. We deiained' 
the c&ptain (Charles Grandy) some time, and questioned him very closely, 
and were informed that an English brig had recently entered the bay, with 
supplies. We gave him some pork and bread, and dismissed him, to his 
great joy : for he fared much better than most of his countrymen did, when 
they fell into the hands of American privateers. We hoped to fall in witli 
this brig, and obtain a fine prize, and visited several ports where fishing was 
carried on, and found no brig; hut we were informed one was expected. 
Having failed in this enterprise, the captain took two of the best shallops 
he could find, belonging to wealthy merchant.-;, and loaded them with oil 
and dry fish, belonging to merchants in Etiglarid. We then left the 
privateer, near Fortune Bay, and set out fin- Salem, but the wind drove ua 
back, and we were compelled to anclmr irj the harbor ol' ihe island. 



266 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

A dark cloud of adversity now seemed ready to burst upon me. As we 
were in a snug harbor where there were no inhabitants, we did not keep 
watcli at niglit. One morning as I came on deck, I perceived that Captain 
Arnold was very different from what he had been. He had been exceed- 
ingly low spirited since we left the privateer. He now seemed somewhat 
deranged — now he would be quite sportive — now he would have a great 
weiglit on his mind. In the evening he reque.sted me to get a light and 
come into the cabin to him. I staid with him all night. He talked tho 
whole niglit on every imagir.able subject — sometimes he seemed rational — 
sometimes deranged. From all this, I gathered that he had a mortal dread 
of falling into the hands of the enemy. It was said by some one, that he 
ran away from Halifax with a king's cutter. In, the morning he appeared 
very cheerful. In the course of the day, he seemed to imagine he was on 
board the privateer — would speak to this and that officer, and rejjly as 
though they had answered him. When night came on, I advised hira to go 
into his cabin. I thought it fortunate that he complied. I made his bed, 
■ani proposed that ho should lie down, which he did without hesitation, and 
was stilL I was determined to secm'e him, and shut the door, buttoning it 
on the outside : then, with,,a thick stick of wood sawn square at each end, I 
fastened the door doubly secure, — one end against a bulkhead, the other 
against the door, pressing it down with my whole weight. Having had no 
sleep the night before, I was now prepared to rest without disturbance. 
The captain made no noise, and as he slejit none tho previous night, I 
hoped he would rest. About daylight, one of the hands, Annis, a stupid, 
shiftless, low-spirited fellow, came on deck, but soon returned, exclaiming, 
with surprise, "Sherburne, where is Captain Arnold?" "In his cabin," 
said I. " He is not on board," replied Annis. Going on deck, I saw the 
cabin door open. His clothes were all on deck, except his waistcoat. His 
shirt and silver sleeve-buttons on the top. The reader will judge of my 
Burprise and distress on this awful occasion. The water was smooth and 
clear, and being only about fifteen foot deep, the white sandy bottom could 
be plainly seen. We hailed the other shallop, and informed our comrades. 
We then went round and round in a skiflf, enlarging our circle, and carefully 
viewing the bottom for a considerable distance. Then we went on shore 
and walked round the beach, but discovered no tracks of bare feet, in the 
Band. Thus our search was fruitless. My reader will have to decide what 
was his fate. How he got out of the cabin is a mystery. 

Our next plan was to get to Salem. We had great difficulty in deciding 
whether one or both of the shallops should be taken with us. Ours was the 
largest, and had the best cargo — the other had the best sails. I proposed 
that Annis and myself should go on board the other, and quit ours ; but 
Annis would not consent. My situation was critical : Annis knew not A 
point of the compass, could not steer, nor do anything to work the vessel : 
in short, he knew nothing. We were yet in an enemy's country, had to 
cross the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and the wind was against us. Everything 
went wrong. Next day the wind was more favorable. Annis could assist 
me in getting up the anchor, and hoisting the sails, but he knew not how 
to trim them to the wind. An attempt to steer this little craft all tlie way 
to the Uuitod States would be madness. About noon we discovered a ship. 



OF AMERICANS. 0,37 

and soon found she wished to speak with us. She chased us several hours, 
but the wind dying iiway, she sent her boats. She proved to be an Ameri- 
can privateer of about twenty guns. The men wlio boarded our vessel 
jiUindered us of some of our fishing-taclde, and let us pass; but wore not 
honorable enough to let us know who they were. Early in the evening we 
lia<l a breeze, which, by midnight, increased to a gale. Our vessel was la- 
boring hard. The night was dark. No moon or stars were seen. We as 
earnestly " wished for the day," as St. Paul's company did ofi' the Island of 
Malta ; and when the day appeared, it was to make our dangur visible. Our 
consort was half a mile ahead of us. We had lost nur boat, which wa.s 
towed at the stern. The clouds looked wild, and tlie ocean was rough. At 
sunrise we split our mainsail from top to bottom, and with great difficulty 
got it down and secured it. At that moment we were obliged to put away 
before the wind, and sail under a whole foresail. Our foremast, having so 
much sail upon it, was in great danger, for the wind was not steady, but blew 
in gusts, and the mast would bend like a whip. Our vessel being heavily 
laden, labored hard in so rough a sea, which caused her to leak so badly, 
tbat one was kept bailing all the time. The gale increased — the sea bccaruH 
more and more boisterous, and the leak also increased. We were fearful tliat 
we could not weather the storm, and expected every moment to see our 
mast go over the bow ; and if it should, we would founder in a few minutes. 
At twelve we discovered land ahead : it was a small island, and it appeared 
impossible to avoid running directly on it, and being dashed to pieces at the 
fn-st blow. It seemed as if our fate was sealed. The other shallop, half a 
mile distant, could easily clear the island. When we came within a mile 
of it, we made out just to clear it. There was, however, a reef of rocks 
adjoining, over which we must pass, and did pass, without striking, so that 
we cleared it about twenty yards. We all arrived about the same time, and 
came to anchor in a small cove. Thus, by another merciful providence, we 
escaped inconceivable perils ! It was now more than twenty-four hours 
since I had tasted food. We threw over a hook and line, and soon drew in 
a large hallibut, and could have taken a hundred if we wished, but one 
sufficed. Cooking went rapidly on, and the fish disappeared with magic 
quickness. We congratulated each other on escaping destruction, and laid 
the two shallops as near to each other as wo dared. Had the wind shifted 
and blown from the opposite point, nothing could have saved us. Two nights 
passed, and I had no sleep. I was worn down with care and anxietj'. The 
gloom that so depressed me at York Harbor, now rushed through my soul in 
a black tempest of horrors. After a vigorous dispute next day with Lloyd, 
the captain of the other shallop, and securing the friendship and co-operation 
of Willis (in case of farther difficulty with Lloyd), we got under way 
again. In the course of an hour we saw a small schooner making toward 
us. Various were our conjectures. The vessel gained on us. We were all 
convinced she was an enemy now, except old Mr. Lloyd. We tried hard to 
have him cut the shallop adrift, and try to be off with one, but he would 
not. The enemy now began to fire upon us with long buccaneer pieces, into 
which they woidd put eight or ten musket balls for a charge. The first fire 
did not strike us, but we heard the bullets whistle over our heails. The 
second charge went through the head of our mainsail, and the third went 



268 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

through the middle. Lloyd now thought it was high time to heave to, and 
ascertain who were our visitors. In a few minutes they were alongside, and 
twenty men sprang on board with those long guns in their hands, loaded, 
primed, and cocked, and presented two or three at each of our breasts with- 
out ceremony, bitterly cursing, and threatening to kill u.s. Wo plead for 
quarters : they swore at us, and seemed determined to take our lives. After 
they had vented their bitter imprecations like so raany demons, two or three 
of them interceded for us. One of these was their commander, but their 
entreaties seemed to increase the rage of the others. They acted like perfect 
fiends. We stood trembling and awaiting their decisions. At length the 
captain, and several others more rational than the rest, prevailed on these 
heady fellows to forbear. 

Their first business was to get their prizes under way for Grand Bank. 
These Newfoundlanders (I forbear calling them English) made it their 
business to know every minute particular that had transpired since we left 
the bay. Captain Arnold had a privateer's commission : this paper I pre- 
served. We arrived at Grand Bank before night. The whole village 
collected to see the Yankee prisoners ; and we were completely surrounded. 
Among the people was an old English lady of distinction, who appeared to 
have an excellent education, and to whose opinions and instructions the 
greatest respect was shown. She was the only one who inquired for papers. 
Lloyd had none, and knew not that it was needful to have any. I presented 
the papers. The lady commenced reading them audibly, and without inter- 
ruption, until she came to the clause in the privateer's letter of m.irque and 
reprisal, which authorized to "burn, sink, or destroy," etc. Many of the 
people then became excessively exasperated, and swore we ought to bo 
killed outright. They were chiefly West-countrymen and Irish, rough, 
savage, and uncultivated — in a comi^lete state of anarchy — without minister 
or magistrate among them. They were very loyal to his " most gracious 
majesty." The old lady interposed, and called them to order, telling them 
we were prisoners of war, and ought to be treated with humanity, and con- 
veyed to a British armed station.. She then continued the reading without 
further interruption. This good woman gave directions, and they began to 
prepare some refreshment for us : they hung on a pot and boiled some cod- 
fish and salt- pork. They then took the pot out of doors and turned it 
upside down on a square board with cleats at the- edges, and when the 
board was sufficiently drained, the provision was set ou a table, or rather, 
bench, somewhat higher than a common table, and the company stood round 
it, and without forks ate with their fingers. They had fish-knives to cut 
their pork, however. After this refreshment we were conducted into a 
cooper's shop and locked up, the windows secured, and a guard placed out- 
side. We endeavored to compose ourselves as well as we could, but were 
ignorant of our fate. Next morning we were put on board a shallop and 
confined. Everything that we had except the clothes on our backs, was 
taken from us — even our shoes. We were taken up the bay to a small 
harbor, called Cornish, the residence of the man whom we had cajitured 
when we first came on the coast. This man (Grandy) did not furget our 
kindness in giving him his liberty, and would have done more fur us had it 
been in his power. He gave ns a large flour loaf and a plate of butter. He 



OF AMEUICAXS. Ofjg 

Beemed to bo generalissimo of this little port. Tliis little incidcut id a pleas- 
ing proof tliat generous deeds are not always unrewarded. Having had our 
refreshment, we were locked up in a warehouse. Next morning we had an 
early breakfast furnished b}' our good friend Grandy, whose partiality was 
evidently disgusting to some of our guard. We were taken several miles up 
a river and landed, in order to strike across the cape to I'laoentia Bay. 
We were guarded by seven sturdy fellows with long muskets ; some of them 
were rude and abusive. The distance from Fortune Bay to Placentia Bay 
was twenty miles through a dreary wilderness. The briars and underbrush 
■were very injurious to our feet and legs, our shoes having been taken from 
ns. Poor old Mr. Lloyd was most to be pitied, for he began to lag early in 
the day, and the soldiers frequently gave him blows with tlie butt-end of 
their guns. In the course of the day we all received a hard biscuit and a 
small slice of raw pork. Though this might not be called hard fare, yet 
our journey was exceedingly fatiguing. It was night when we got over to 
the shore of Placentia Ba}', and we were five miles from the station, where 
there was a small battery and a few regular soldiers. The post was occupied 
by a rich old man of the Isle of Jersey, wdio had a large number of shallops 
and fi.shermen in his service, some of whom had been rudely treated by 
American privateers. He was greatly infuriated when he found we were 
Americans, insisting that we ought to be killed forthwith. He swore he 
would give us neither food nor shelter. But our guard had received instruc- 
tions from the good old lady at Grand Bank, and they threatened to present 
him to his majesty's officers. The old man then abruptly quit them, and 
went to his house. The guard took possession of the brew-house, in which 
he had brewed that day. The floor was wet and muddy. I went out and 
broke off my arms full of fir and spruce boughs for my bed, and lay down 
exceedingly fatigued, and soon fell asleep. Some of the guard had been 
busy in getting something ready to eat. One of them came to mo, gave mo 
a shake, and bade me rise and cat my supper. Though my dinner had been 
scanty enough, yet I preferred rest, and declined to get up ; but ho gave me 
a pretty heavy thump, saying, with an oath, " Get up, you Yankee, and take 
yolir supper ! " I thought it best to obey this summons. Our supper was 
in similar style to that at Grand Bank. We had saucers of sweet oil — no 
plates, knives, or forks. Each took fish in his fingers and dipped it in oil ! 
I tried to go through the same manual exercise, but had the greatest difH- 
culty in swallowing such disgusting victuals. This over, I returned to my 
bed of boughs, and slept soundly all night. In the morning, we had to 
walk five miles to the little battery, which was performed with even greater 
difficulty than the whole twenty miles the day before. We passed a 
promontory of tiresome, difficult, and dangerous ascent and descent — some- 
times almost perpendicular, and had to catch fast hold of the bushes to avoid 
falling headlong upon the rocks below. When we arrived, they fired one 
of their artillery pieces, for joy that some Yankee privateers had fallen into 
their hands ; for some had been much annoyed by them, and others had 
been prisoners, and their stores and shallops had been iilundered. I think 
we were the only prisoners captured on their coast. From this place we 
were taken to another harbor, and put on board a shallop for Placentia, and 
our guard of seven returned to Fortune Bay. The guard now was only 



270 ■ ADVENTUIIES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

throe men, more humane than the others ; they had long muskets lying 
loaded by them. Having ascertained that we had had no brealifast, they hove 
to, and soon hauled in some fine cod, which they boiled with pork. This, 
with ship-bread, was quite in contrast with our execrable and disgusting 
supper. We were all kept forward and not allowed to come near the 
quarter-deck, where lay the loaded guns. AVe arrived at Plaeeiitia at night, 
and a government boat took us to the commissary. He came into his room 
with a number of gentlemen, who examined us with great scrutiny. They 
were deeply hurt on seeing the condition of our feet and hearing of our ill- 
ti-eatment, .and gave us shoes and stockings, expressing great regret at the 
unhappy discord between the mother country and the colonics. The com- 
missar}' told us we must take up our residence in his garrison, and sent us 
some flour loaves and butter. After eating, we heard the sound of b.igpipes 
at the door, and a messenger was sent to call us out. On going to the door 
we were taken into custody by a sergeant's guard of Highlanders, in their 
Scotch kilts, plaids, bonnets, and checkered stockings, with guns, fixed 
bayonets, broadswords, and all and singular the accoutrements and para- 
phernalia thereunto belonging. Annis, Ball, Willis and I, gazed with 
astonishment at this most singular novelty. Sandy changed his tune ; we 
had orders to march, and were conducted into the guard-room of the fort, 
and a sentinel was placed at the door. 

The governor of Plaoentia was Colonel Hawkins, a man of gentlemanly 
deportment. He had but a part of his regiment here. His wife was the 
daughter of an old Highlander, who was a private. He and a number of 
other soldiers had their wives and children with them in the garrison. The 
governor was not over thirty, and his wife twenty. She was cheerful and 
humane. We had not been long in the garrison before Willis and I were 
invited by the governor to assist rowing his barge up the river, where he 
had salmon-nets. As we lads were more expert in rowing than the soldiers, 
Willis w.as taken for boatman, and I for strokesman. There were a number 
of islands in the river, where grew raspberries, gooseberries, and a variety of 
other berries, which were very good. The governor and his wife generally 
landed on one of these islands, to amuse themselves in picking berries, while 
we attended to the salmon-nets. The lady would amuse herself in asking 
questions about Yankees, their manners and customs, and regretted that we 
boys were prisoners, detained from our parents. She had two children of 
her own, and had the feelings of a parent. On our return from our excur- 
sions up the river, which generally took us the greater part of the day, we 
were sent into the governor's kitchen and furnished with a good supper, 
which was the more acceptable, as our allowance was scanty. After we 
had been several times up the river, we were all allowed to walk in the 
yard by day, but could not go out of the yard without a guard. But we 
never went out, except to bring water from a spring near the garrison. 

It was some time in May, 1781, that we came here, and Scjitember came 
without a prospect of release. About the 15th of the month, there came in 
a twenty-two gunship, the Duchess of Cumberland. She was built iu 
Salem, and called the Congress, but, having been captured by the British, 
her name was changed. This vessel came to convey a number of English 
merchantmen. While in port, one of her men deserted. Diligent search 



OF AMERICANS. ^211 

liaving been ni,ado without success, it was suspected tliat some of the 
inhabitants condealed him. The oflicers retaliated by impressing a man 
named Baggs. Governor Hawkins put us prisoners on board this ship, to 
Uke us to St. Johns, where were a prison-ship and a number of prisoners, 
and it was expected that a cartel would be sent thence to Boston that fall. 
Thus there was a prospect of getting home again, but our prospects were 
blasted ! 

On the second day out wo had a gale, with rain. In the afternoon, a 
strange sail appeared, for which we gave chase ; but, as the wind increased 
and we were going out of our course, it was given up. It now became 
necessary to steer for St. Marys. The wind was furious. About tliree 
o'clock they thought best to put the ship away a little, supposing they had 
passed the cape. Mr. Baggs had been skipper of a shallop for twenty years ; 
he was therefore invited to take his place on the forecastle, the station of 
the most accomplished seamen. The forecastlemen steer by turns ; and 
when the helm was relieved, Mr. Baggs asked the helmsman what cour.se 
they were steering ? and when he had ascertained, remarked, " If we run 
that course two hours, the ship will be on shore!" The sailors were 
alarmed at this information. Baggs then w-ent aft and told the other 
officers that he was well acquainted with the coast, and in his judgment the 
ship and their lives were in imminent danger. But those British officers 
scorned to be instructed by a Newfoundland fisherman, and commanded 
him to be off the quarter-deck or they would kick him off. Baggs went 
forward, not a little chagrined at their savage treatment. The sailors for- 
ward kept a good lookout, however, though the weather was so thick that 
they could see only a short distance. No pen can describe, no imagination 
conceive, the horrors that awaited us. 

On the 19th September, about sunset, loud and repeated cries were hoard 
from the forecastle, " Breakers on the lee-bow ! Breakers on the lee-bow ! " 
This doleful sound made every ear to tingle. Immediately was heard, 
"Stand by to about ship! Hard to lee, foretop bowline, jib and staysail 
sheets, let go!" The ship instantly rounded to, head to the wind; but 
before the foretopsail could be fitted on the other tack, the violence of the 
wind and waves gave the ship sternway, and she was dashed furiously 
against a rugged bluff of rocks standing twenty feet out of water. Two men 
sprang instantly from the vessel on a shudf of the crag.s. Another, at the 
helm, was knocked overboard by the sudden shock ; another made a 
desperate effort to reach the rock, and both were drowned. The ship could 
be governed no longer, and we were at the mercy of the waves. All was 
confusion, consternation, and despair ! The ship stuck fast upon a craggy 
r« ;k, which lay under water about twice her length from the shore, and 
pwbably broke several of her fioor-timbers. All this took place before halt 
the people below could scramble on deck. Looking down the hatchway, 1 
could see a stream, as big as a mari's body, violently gushing up from the 
bottom. With the greatest difficulty I reached the quarter-deck. The ship 
rolled fearfully ; the yardarms nearly touched the water, the sea breaking 
feather-white all round ! Under the fog bank which hung over the shore, 
we could see the mountain, but not the top of it. The wind blew most 
furiously, and the rain poured down in torrents. The sea roared like 



272 ADVENTUKES AXD ACUIEVEMENTS 

thunder, while night came on apace. Some of the officers were raving and 
swearing lil;e bedlamites; some were crying, others praying; some inactive 
and desponding ; while others were active and courageous. The long-boat 
was gotten out, but as soon as it touched the water, a heavy sea dashed it 
against the ship's side, breaking it to pieces as quick as you would crush an 
egg-shell in your hand. The ship was fast filling, and there seemed to ba 
no possibility of another person being saved ; while those on shore saw no 
prospect of release for themselves, and expected to see all their companions 
l-ierish. The masts were now ordered to be cut away : after a few blows the 
main-mast fell, and the fore-mast and mizen-mast also fell without a stroke, 
by the power of the tempest. On the fall of the masts, the ship cleared 
from the rook on which she had been for some time hangii-.g, and drifted 
toward the shore, thumping tremendously on the rocks under water, and 
throwing us furiously against each other. The ship finally drifted into a 
cove and brought up on some rocks, which were so near the surface that 
she could not get over them. Every sea gave her a tremendous shock. 
The decks opened in some pl.ioes wide enough for a man to get through 
into the hold. The ship v/as situated somewhat like that in wdiich St. 
Paul was wrecked on the Isle of Malta: ''The fore-part stuck fast and 
remained immovable, but the hinder-part was broken by the violence of the 
waves." There were five prisoners on board ; but I heard of no council to 
put us to death, for there was not the remotest possibility of our escape by 
swimming ; and it was equally impossible for any one to save himself on 
" boards, or broken pieces of the ship." By the time the ship stuck fast, 
the two sailors who jumped on the rocks, had, with immense difliculty, got 
nearly abreast of us. Nothing astonished us more than their feat of getting 
from the rocks to the beach. A small spar and a rope made fast to it, 
were now hove over the stern. The waves carried the spar on shore, but 
the men could not reach it ; so it was drawn on board again. This was 
repeated several times, till at last the men on shore succeeded in catching it, 
and it w-as made fast round a rock as large as a haystack. The sailors ou 
board drew it as straight as they could, and made it fast round the stump of 
the fore-mast. Had the ship been driven over the reef she struck, she must 
have gone to pieces in going three times her length, and not a soul would 
have been saved. When the waves ran, they would bury the rope under 
water, for it was drawn so straight that it could not rise from the sea. A 
m.in attempted to get ashore by this rope, and succeeded very well till he 
got a couple of rods from the ship, when he was washed off and dashed 
against the rocks ; the next sea buried him, and he sunk to rise no more. 
Several others met the same fate. This must have been owing to too much 
exertion at first ; for the ship could not have been in a better position, being 
completely bound by large craggy rocks. The fate of those who had been 
washed off from the rope seemed to discourage the rest. At length another, 
and then another, ventured, and succeeded in getting on shore, and were 
jnyfull}' received. The next one, however, was lost. Six or seven more 
were then successful. Night w,as coming on, and our situation was gloomy 
indeed. Several midshipmen made efforts, but drew back. Their cries of 
distress were bitter and heartrending. I now began to think of trying my- 
soir, though the hope of success was exceedingly faint. I buttoned up my 



OF AMERICANS. 273 

outside jacket, drawing ni}' sliirt out of my trowsers. I had on an old- 
fasluoned Dutcli cap, whicli fitted very tiglit. I could swim tolerably, and 
flattered myself that this would be in my favor ; but as soon as I took hold 
of the rope, and fell iuto the water, I found I coulil make no use of my 
legs, as the water was so greatly agitated. The first swell was somewhat 
obstricted by the ship ; and I was completely buried in the sea for a short 
time. When the second sea came, I was exposed to its whole violence, and 
it seemed as if I should be pressed to death, and the time seemed very long. 
There I was in the most perilous situation that can possibly be conceived, 
hanging on by my hands to the rope, stretched out horizontally, suspended 
in the air; and before the swell retired, my right h.ind gave way. 0, the 
horror of that moment ! I was distracted ! Among my many fears, one 
was, that the left hand would continue its hold until I was drowned. My 
left arm got weaker and weaker, and I expected every moment to be in 
eternity and appear before the Eternal Judge. It would be labor in vain to 
give the faintest idea of my terrors, and the fear of death. The undertow 
swept me under the rope ; I threw my right arm over it, and instantly 
grasped fast hold of the collar of my jacket and other clothes, and, tekiiig 
breath, made a frenzied effort to draw myself toward shore, before another 
sea could sweep over me. The third wave stretched me, but having my 
arm over the rope, I was better fortified, the sea being less violent than 
before. When the waves retired, I was left suspended by the rope, and I 
could almost touch the hideous, rugged rocks with my feet, but I feared to 
let go my hold, because the men on shore could not yet afford me any 
assistance. Another sea came, but its force was almost spent before it 
reached me. AVhen the sea rolled back, two sailors followed it, holding on 
the rope with one hand, and drew me on the beach I They laid me on my 
back, and left me more dead than alive. After a while I found myself 
struggling to get on my side, and finally made out to sit up, but I could not 
stand. On viewing the wreck, I felt deeply thankful to the good God fur 
my deliverance, and inwardly vowed to .serve him all my daj-s. One of 
the men being courageous and uncommonly strong, made out to get on 
board the wreck. lie was an officer, but I do not remember his name or 
rank. He and others had now contrived a better means of rescuing those 
reKL.uning on the wreck. They fixed a traveler on the rope, by which he 
first went on shore, so that he could not wash off, and the man took with 
him a rope, long enough to reach the shore : the end on the wreck was 
made fast round a man's body, and another equally long fixed to it. The 
man then fell into the water, and those on shore would run with their 
end, while those on board would pay out, taking care to keep the rope 
tight, so as to prevent the man from dashing against the rocks. By the 
time I could walk down to the edge of the water, they were hauling five or 
Bix men at once, on different ropes. More than one hundred were saved in 
this way ! 

The wind and rain continued, and we were without shelter. AVe could not 
ascend the mountain without great difficulty. Night came on. The wreck, 
which might contain thirty persons, could not now be seen. We finally 
reached a hollow in the mountain, but there was not room enough for all of 
us to lie down without lying upon each other. But it was better to do this 



27J: ADYKXTUFvES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

than be exposed to the full fury of the cold storm. Sometimes those who 
h\y lowest down on the steep ground, would slip down, several in a cluster, 
all the way to the beach among the rocks. When this happened, they did 
not forget to swear. At two in the morning, the wind shifted, and the sea 
was less noisy. At daybreak, our great anxiety was to know whether the 
wreck had gone to pieces. We were greatly rejoiced to find it had not. 
We were now able to converse with those remaining on the wreck. About 
nine in the morning, a few got on bo.ard, and in the course of the day nearly 
all escaped ; bringing the provisions, ammunition, muskets, tomahawks, 
cutlasses, and other implements, on shore. The crew was about one 
hundred and seventy, besides prisoners. Every man had secured a blanket ; 
and thus equipped, after our terrible misfortunes, all hands prepared to 
ascend the mountain. 

Mr. Baggs, whose counsel had been despised an hour before the ship 
struck, was now in high feather, and looked up to with respect, even by the 
captain, whose name was Marsh : a man of respectability. He was not on 
deck when Baggs was so illtreatod by those conceited, ruffian up-starts, who 
had threatened to kick him, for giving information that would have saved 
the lives of every soul on board, and incredible misery. It was also said 
that the ship's course was altered without the captain's knowledge. The 
number of the lost I do not remember. We saved the only woman on 
board, the cook's wife. Her husband, one of the surgeon's mates, with 
several others, were left in this place. This woman was delivered of a child 
a day or two after, and all the party were taken oft" in fishing-shallops. 
About two o'clock we began to ascend the mountain. In climbing a preci- 
pice twenty feet high, I could not walk without holding on by a rope. 
Some one jerked it out of my hands, and I fell on my face ; and when I had 
slipped down to the edge of the precipice, a person who had just got up, 
clapped his foot on me till I caught the rope again. Had I fallen over the 
precipice, I should have been killed. Reaching the top, I found myself on 
the border of a spacious plain. Looking northerly and easterly, a man 
might be seen a mile off : but not a tree or shrub. A mile and a half 
southerly was a wilderness of evergreens. The ground was covered with a 
thick moss, in which your foot would sink a foot at every tread. In the 
distance, our wreck did not look bigger than a boat. A company of one 
hundred and fifty of us now took up our journey for the woods, which we 
reached at sunset. We had no luck in making a fire, for every material 
was wet. We gathered green boughs for beds, and stowed closely together, 
covering oureelves with the blankets we brought from the wreck ; and after 
all, we were very uncomfortable, as the reader will believe, for our clothes 
were wet, and the night was frosty. ■ 

In the morning, the captain and some other officers h.ad a long consulta- 
tion with Mr. Baggs, as to the route we should pursue. We were about one 
hundred miles from Placcntia, but the distance from St. Johns I do not 
know. Finally, it was decided to shape our course for Placentia. On the 
following morning, orders were given to have all the provisions collected, 
and everybody was to receive an equal allowance. It was thought best to 
remain where we were one day, however, that Mr. Baggs might examine 
the coast, and .settle some question in his own mind. He and a number of 



OF AMERICANS. 275 

officers sot off for an exploration of the coast. In tFio evening they re- 
turned, bringing the unpleasant intelligence that the vessel which had 
chased us had gone entirely to pieces, and, no doubt, every soul on board 
was lost. On the following morning, according to arrangement the day 
before, we took up our pilgrimage, keeping along in the woods till noon, 
when we came upon the shore at the head of Distress Bay. Mr. Baggs told 
us, that for several leagues the water was not more than two fathoms deep, 
and that this bay abounded with rocks under water. It was supposed that 
the vessel must have gone to pieces several miles from the shore. We con- 
jectured that she was a brig, and knew her to have been American built, for 
on the foreheads of some of her carved images, we saw the letters "U. S. 
A." She might have been captured by the English, and employed in their 
service. There was no doubt of her having been to the West Indies, for we 
found several hogsheads of rum on shore. The oflicerti, with tomahawks, 
cut holes in them, and emptied tliem, lest the sailors should linger for the 
sake of the rum. The remains of the vessel were scattered for miles along 
the shore. We picked up fourteen men and a hoy of about fourteen, 
dragged them on the bank, and, with staves, dug a grave two or three feet 
deep, and buried the poor fellows as decently as we could. How narrowly 
liad we escaped the same dreadful fate ! The only provision we found was 
a lump of butter, from a keg that had been stove to pieces ; and the sand 
was beat into the butter several inches. Wo scraped off the damaged part, 
and took the rest along with us. We spent several hours about the wreck. 
The largest pieces of the wreck we found were several planks of the (juarter- 
deck, and some of the timbers. 

Xe.'Ct day we continued our pilgrim-progress through the woods, and in 
the afternoon reached Distress Bay ; and never was name more appropriate, 
so far as we were concerned. We kept along the shore for many miles of 
liorrid traveling, and were finally obliged to take to the woods again, owing 
to the bold rocky coast. I have been accustomed to the wilderness of New 
England, New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio ; but never found any region 
so diflicult of travel as Newfoundland. 

Three times a day Captain Marsh would sit down, with the bread-bag 
between his legs, and deal out a small portion, while an officer would dis- 
tribute a little meat and butter from the keg we found on the seashore. 
The whole amount to each man, did not exceed eight ounces a day. In 
about ten days we reached a little port, called Point Var, greatly exhausted. 
We were in the enemy's country — that is, wo who were Americans. Here 
we were driven into storehouses as prisoners, and were furnished with a 
<irink, called " Labrador tea," well sweetened with molasses. This tea, 
with ehip-bread, made o^'" supper. Before we were well housed we made 
free with some of the fish from the beach, but this was taken from us. I 
had the good luck to conceal one under my jacket, and found the others 
had quartered on the enemy by doing the same. Here we had a dry floor 
and a good night's rest. The next day wo had to walk five miles to 
Plaoentia, as prisoners, and were put in our old station, the guard- house. A 
Mr. Saunders, one of the principal merchants, gave me and others some 
clothing. Governor Hawkins and h'.s l.idy were very frieiidlv, and so were 
niaiiv others of the garrison, and congratulated us on our return, after having 
IS 



270 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Buffered so much in two short weeks — long weeks they were to us. We 
continued here about a month. My comrades were variously disposed of. 
My friend Willis and I were destined to servo his most gracious majesty, 
King George III, on board the Fairy sloop-of-war, under Captain Yeo, a 
perfect tyrant. We were all called upon the quarter-deck, and this cap- 
tain, after asking us a few questions, turned, to his officers, saying, " They 
are a couple of fine lads for his majesty's service. Mr. Gray, see that they 
do their duty, one in the fore-top, the other in the main-top." Willis 
replied, that he was "afraid to go up, as he was subject to fits, and miglit 
fall and be killed." And I replied, "I am a prisoner of war, and will not 
serve against my country." After some hard words and furious threats, we 
were ordered off the quarter-deck, and commanded to do duty in the waist. 
We therefore left our tyrant in haste. In a day or two, all hands were 
called. The usual ceremony was on this wise : the boatswain's mate stood 
at the fore-hatchway, and called, or, with a pipe, blew a long and loud 
blast, anil then hallooed, " All hands, ahoy." He performed this ceremony 
also at the main-hatchway, and the after-hatchway. I saw no necessity for 
all this parade, and always thought it was for uo other jjurpose than to ferret 
out and overawe us two Yankee lads. After a suitable time for the men to 
get on deck, the boatswain's mate went down fore and aft between decks, to 
see if there were any skulkers. None disobeyed the summons but Willis 
and I, who were snug in the cable tier. He began to rave like a bedlamite, 
hastened toward us, commanding us to go on deck. "We are prisoners of 
war — American prisoners." " Tell me nothing about prisoners ! Upon 
deck immediately." We still kept our stations, and remonstrated, while he 
belched out a stream of horrid oaths, at the same time striking us furiously 
with his rattan. For some time we sternly refused to budge, while he 
thnished us alternately, his rage increasing with every blow, and seemed 
determined to conquer. We should have continued our resistance, but saw 
it would be useless, and therefore went on deck with no small reluctance, 
the mate close at our heels repeating his blows. Having got on deck, I saw 
but little to do. Fox, the carpenter, observing me tearfully meditating on 
my hard fate, was looking on while the mate was whipping us. The reader 
will judge of ray painful and forlorn condition, especially that of being com- 
pelled to serve the king. The carpenter kindly called me to him, and 
asked me to sit down. "I see, my lad," said he, "you are obliged to do 
duty." " Yes, sir, much against my will," said I. "It is wrong," said the 
carpenter, " but it would not do for me to interfere ; but I w-as thinking to 
do you a favor. His majesty allows me two boys ; if you will come into 
my berth and take a little care here, I will excuse you from keeping watch, 
and all other duty." After some hesitation, I a^.eed to this proposal, the 
carpenter remarking that it would be more favorable, as there would be 
otherwise no escape from the tyranny of the captain, who was very arbi- 
trary, and hated by the crew ; adding, that he intended to leave the ship 
when he got home, but enjoining secrecy, and promising to be my friend. 
In a few daj's we arrived at St. Johns. Here we found we were destined 
to see old England ! It was appalling to my feelings that there was no 
eecape. While lying at St. Johns, we had an opportunity of seeing more 
of Captain Yeo's detestable character. No spiritous liquors were allowed to 



OF AMEIUCANS. 277 

bo brouglU on board. This, of course, was a good regulation. It was tho 
custom to lioist in the boat at night, lest any should elude the gnard, and 
steal away in the boat. One evening as the boat was hoisted in, a bottle of 
irum was discovered in it ! Not one of the boat's crew would own that 
bottle. Xext morning the whole six were seized at the gang-way, and their 
shirts stripped off; each receiving a dozen lashes ou his bare back, with a 
cat-o'-niue-tails. He had a number of men in irons during the entire 
passage to England. We arrived in Plymouth the last of November, 1781, 
after a short but rough passage ; and though we had been several times 
called to quarters, through a kind providence, neither Willis nor myself 
were stationed at any quarters. On arriving at tho land of my forefathers, 
I confess to peculiar sensation of reverence and solemnity, not to be 
described. Yet when I remembered the haughtiness, obstinacy, and cruelt}' 
of her monarch, I felt an indignant, if not a revengeful spirit. Several days 
passed without a prospect of release. In less than a week three times as 
many women as men came on board, and the number daily increased. The 
worthy carpenter proposed, that in case I could not get released, to adopt 
me as his son. lie had a wife, I think, in Bristol, but no child, lie could, 
if he pleased, quit the ship, and work in the navy yard. I felt duly grateful 
for the offer, but signified my earnest desire to get to America again. While 
in port we lived high, which was very joyful to me, after long famine and 
liardships. Captain Yeo, the disgusting tyrant, took leave of the ship, with- 
out tho least mark of respect from anybody. 

The ship was now preparing for another cruise. The new captain (whose 
name I regret that I cannot recall), came on board, and was sainted with 
three cheers. There seemed to be a possibility that my friend Willis and 
myself might find favor with him. A day or two after he came on board, 
Mr. Fox, the carpenter, said to me : " Sherburne, the captain is walking 
alone on the quarter-deck ; I think it a good time for you to go and speak 
to him : it may be he will consider you a prisoner of war." I trembled for 
fear of being unsuccessful : I felt a strange balancing between hope and 
despair, for it was our last chance ; and if we failed, our fate was sealed : 
unless Mr. Pox could get discharged from the ship, and take me with him ; 
and even then I would be considered a British subject. I immediately 
made known ray plan to Willis, and as there was no time to lose, requested 
him to accompany me. With our hats under our arms, we addressed the cap- 
tain in a tremulous voice. He seemed willing to give us a hearing. " What 
is your wish, my lads ? " said he. " We are American prisoners," said I, 
"and were taken on tlie coast of Newfoundland, and imprisoned all the last 
summer in Placentia ; and in September, were put on board his majesty's 
ship, Duchess of Cumberland, for St. Johns, expecting to have been sent 
from thence to Boston, and be exchanged ; but the Duchess of Cumberland 
was lost on Cape St. Marj'S, soon after she sailed. AVe were again taken to 
Placentia, and put on board this ship. It is our wish, sir, to be considered 
prisoners of war, and go to prison." The cajjtain replied, "You maj-go for- 
ward, my lads, and I will inquire into your case." We bowed, and re- 
tired. Mr. Pox anxiously waited for our return. In about half an hour, 
word came for Sherburne and Willis to get ready to go into the boat. We 
were ready to leap with joy that we were to have the honor of going to 



278 ADVEXTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

prison. I saw tears in Mr. Fox's eye, and they ran down my cheeks freely. 
He gave me shirts and stockings, and we parted. A midshipman accom- 
panied ns in the boat, sword in hand, and a sergeant with several marines, 
with fi.\ed biiyonets ; and we left the Fairy in Plymonth Sound, and were 
put on board the Dunkirk, which lay near Plymouth Dock. All prisoners 
that were brought into port, were put on board this guard-ship. I had been 
on board but a few minutes before I fell in with an English lad, who was 
my former shipmate. His name was William Lamb. He was captured in 
the Ranger, in which I made my first venture. He had been captured four 
times by the British, and deserted, assuming different names each time. 
This information he gave me in a whisper, begging me, " for God's sake 
don't call me by name, as I have assumed one." I was grieved for the poor 
fellow, who was much respected by his comrades. I knew if he were de- 
tected in all this he would be hung at the yardarm. 

There were no American prisoners on board the Dunkirk when we went 
on board of Jier, but in a few days a dozen or more came in ; and scarcely a 
night passed in which additions were not made by the press-gangs. These 
gangs are sturdy villians, and sometimes got a severe drubbing from their 
prisoners, who often got shockingly bruised. The prisoners first brought on 
board, were called for in a day or two, and sent ashore to pass an examina- 
tion before the judges of the admiraltj', previous to commitment to Old 
Mill Prison. I was surprised and alarmed that those who came on board 
subsequent to us, preceded us in goit]g to prison, having understood that the 
order would be in rotation, and had reason to believe vengeance was in store 
for ns. At length we mustered courage to go to the oflice, and ask why we 
were not sent ashore iu turn. The clerk asked what vessel we were of, and 
our names. He knew nothing about us ! Our very souls began to sink. 
We now feared that we might be put aboard another man-of-war. Wo 
went again to the ofKce. The clerk was a true man, and a gentleman, and 
he promised to make diligent search for our names. 

We had lost all our clothing except what wo had on ; everything else had 
been stolen. The ship was so near the shore that it was impossible to pre- 
vent spirits being brought aboard, so that it was an indescribable scene of 
drinking, swearing, fighting, stealing, brawling, scolding, and confusion, 
especially at night. A dozen more prisoners were now brought on board, 
and when the time came to send the prisoners ashore, we were greatly 
rejoiced to hear our names called first. There were thirteen of us ordered 
on board a boat, and we were landed at Plymouth Dock, said to be the best 
ill England. I had an opportunity of viewing the Royal George, the 
largest ship in the navy. We were escorted from the wharf to the Court of 
Admiralty by a guard of soldiers, and conducted into a room by ourselves. 
Here we waited some time in awful suspense. It was a trying scene to 
endure. The judges, in their examinations, were careful to select English- 
men and Irishmen for his majesty's service ; but sometimes American:; were 
challenged and sent on board ships of war, as British subjects. The judges 
were elderly gentlemen, with white wigs. My examination came : 

" Is your name Andrew Sherbr.rne ?" "It i.s, sir. " "AVhei-e were 301; 
born?" "In Portsmouth, Is'sw Hampshire, North America." "What is 
your age ?" "I was sixteen the last day of September, sir." " What waa 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 279 

vour father's immo ? " "Aiiilruw Sherburne.'- "What was his ociupa- 
tion ? " " A carpouter." " What v;;ssel did you sail in." "The privateer 
schooner Greyhound." "How many guns did she mount?" "Eight five- 
jiounders." "Who commanded her ?" " Captain John Willis." "Where 
did she belong?" "To Salem, Massachusetts." "When did she leave 
Salem ? " " Some time in the month of April last." " What were you 
taken in ?" "I was taken in a Newfoundland shallop, a prize to the Grsy- 
hound." "By what were you taken?" " A small armed schooner from 
Fortune Cay, in Newfoundland." " Where were you taken to?" "We 
were first taken to a place called Grand Bank, in Fortune Bay ; thence we 
were sent to Placentia, and imprisoned in the garrison till September. I 
was then put on board his majesty's ship, the Duchess of Cumberland, bound 
to St. Johns, and she having been lost on Cape St. Marys, I returned with 
|jart of the crew to Placentia, where I was put on board his majesty's shij), 
Fairy, and brought to this port." " How many are there of you ? " "Only 
two, sir ; three were put on board of merchantmen, at Placentia." After 
tills catechising, I was conducted back to my companions, when Willis was 
called in, who went through a similar ordeal. When all had been ex- 
amined, I wiis called the second time, and most of the questions repeated. 
This much alarmed me. One of the judges asked a gentleman in another 
part of the room, whether my statement agreed with what I said before ; to 
which he assented. I heard a pen going during my examination, but did 
not know that they were writing down my answers. I felt fearful of a 
snare ; but it proved more favorable than I expected. The other twelve 
were now called in, and the judges pronounced the awful sentence, that we 
all be committed to Old Mill Prison, for rebellion, piracy, and high treason, 
on his Britannic miijosty's high-seas, there to remain during his majesty's 
pleasure, or till he saw fit to pardon or otherwise dispose of us ! 

At the door, a guard now conducted us to prison. It was a mile and 
a-half distant. I had not walked so much on land since my dreary march 
through the wilderness of Newfoundland. I felt a high degree of anima- 
tion that my prospects were so favorable as a residence in Old Mill Prison ! 
The outer gate groaned on its hinges, and received us in the outer yard, 
where a sentinel always stood. 

Old "Aunt Annie" was constantly here, with her hand-cart, drawn by a 
boy, and supplied the prisoners with bread, butter, tobacco, needles, thread, 
and such nick-nacs as we needed. Several milkmen also took stations here. 
Before the inner gate opened, we heard a shout from within, "More 
prisoners! more prisoners!" The inner gate then opened, well guarded 
by soldiers with fixed bayonets. We were urged forward into the great 
prison yard, while the inmates rushed from all directions to see if there 
were any acquaintance among the new-comers. One and another would 
seize us by the hand, saying, "How are ye? Where are ye froni?" No 
one presumed to intrude on the little groups collected from particular locali- 
ties. I foun<l a number from my own vicinity in New Hampshire. 

It was now near night. I had tasted nothing since morning, and found I 
had got to a hungry place. One of my townsmen brought me a penny roll 
and a halfpeimy worth of butter, which was very acceptable. It was 
.T;iiiuary, and my clothing was in a forlorn condition. Next day my towns- 



280 ADVEXTUllES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

man gave me a few articles. Though in his British majesty's (luminions, 
the prisoners ventured to form themselves into a republic, framed a constitu- 
tion of wholesome laws with suitable penalties. My friends held a consul- 
tation concerning my hard case. One spoke on this fashion, " It will bo a 
pity if our young countryman should spend his time, as many boys do, at 
gaming : he is fatherless, and needs education. Perhaps he might be pre- 
vailed on to go to school." Another replied, " If he will, I will give him 
some papers." Another, " I will give him quills and ink." Another, 
(afterward Captain Tibbetts), "I will undertake to instruct him." A com- 
mittee conferred, and communicated to me their conclusion, and advised me 
to accejjt these offers. Grateful for such benevolence, though fond of cards, 
I forthwith repudiated them, and accepted their advice. I made rapid im- 
provement, and soou became indifferent to all kinds of gaming, finding 
KufScient amusement in my studies. 

]\Iill Prison took its name from windmills originally occupying the 
eminence near Plymouth Dock. According to tradition, one of the three 
buildings comprised in Mill Prison, was built in the reign of Queen Ann. 
The largest building was one hundred feet long, and twenty wide, and two 
stories high, built of stone, with no windows on the north front. Between 
this building and the commissary's office (which had no windows at the 
east end), there was a space of some twenty feet. A wall on the north, as 
high as the eaves of the prison, extended from the piison to the office. 
A wall on the south joined the two buildings. Through this wall agate 
led to the main yard. South of the yard was the cook-room, on the ground- 
floor. A space between the two prisons formed a yard for both. On the 
south of the common yard was a stone wall fourteen feet high, with broken 
glass bottles set in mortar, to prevent climbing. A similar wall was on the 
east. The whole included half an acre. In this yard was a lamp-post, and 
near the cook-room, a good pump. The reasons for this minute description 
will be hereafter apparent. There were one or two sentinels in the yard by 
day — at night, at least four ; as many outside, and four in the long prison, 
with a proportionate number in the other prisons. The whole number of 
American prisoners was from eight hundred to one thousand. There had 
been no release or exchange since the war began, and some had been in 
prison seven years. Numbers had escaped, and some shipped on board his 
icajesty's ships, which absolved them from "rebellion and piracy." 

At an early period it was found necessary to adopt some government for 
the prisoners. If any one transgressed, he had a legal trial, and was 
j)unishcd. There had been some cases of tying to the lamp-post, and 
administering a dozen lashes on the bare back. The food was tolerable, but 
we had not half enough. The portion was about twelve ounces of bread, 
and twelve oxmces of beef a day. At eleven each day, we drew a three 
pound loaf to each mess. It was made of rye, oats, barley, and peas. In 
compliment to King George, it was called " Brown George." One divided 
the loaf in quarters, another would turn his back, and another, in the 
presence of the rest, touched a piece, saying to him who turned his back, 
"Who shall have that ?" till the four pieces were disposed of. Many dis- 
putes took place about the division of beef, which was weighed out to the 
:ook in the gross, with an allowance to turn the scale for each mess. 



OF AMERICANS. 281 

Some were employed in making punoli-pacldlcs, of applo-wood, which 
sold for nearly half a guinea; wooden spoons, busks, and. knitting-sheatlis, 
curiously wrought. One taught navigation, another made nets for drying 
glue. Ship-building was also extensively carried on ; I doubt not there arc 
ships in England, built in Mill Prison, though not large enough for pinva- 
teering ! One prisoner, from Salem, exceeded all others in invejitive skill. 
Ho built a ship a foot long, which he sold for four guineas. Ue built also a 
three-decker, which he sold for twenty guineas ! It was some four feet 
long, with three tiers of guns, anchors on her bows, and cable bent. By 
pulling gently on one cable, the ports on one deck would all fly ojien ; by 
pulling another, the guns would all run out of the ports. The effect was 
the same on the other decks. This curious work occupied about two 
years ! 

Dr. Franklin was then our minister at the Court of France. Previous to 
my arrival, he furnished each prisoner a shilling sterling a week ; but it was 
difficult for him to obtain funds, and this donation would often be discon- 
tinued for weeks. Various plans were used to get the news. Strange to 
tell, a newspaper would sometimes be obtained in a loaf of bread. News o." 
the capture of Cornwallis was obtained in this way. The prisonei-s were 
greatly animated on this eventful occasion ; and a number furnished them- 
selves with the American ensign, painted on a half sheet of paper, with the 
British flag also painted below the Union ; and sticking this into their hat- 
bauds, the)' paraded the prison yard, huzzaing so boisterously as to alarm 
the commissary. His name was Cowdra}', a petulant old fellow, wdiom the 
prisoners, especially those from Marblehead, took pilcasure in affronting. 
The whole guard came into the yard, and some of the prisoners had the 
hardihood to insult them, and dared them to fire on them ; but through the 
interposition of some of the American officers, the tumult subsided. 

Every evening before sundown a guard came into the yard and ordered 
every man into the prison. They were counted as they walked leisurely 
in, and the doors were then locked. One evening a prisoner in the upper 
story threw a bone, which he had been picking, out of the window through 
the iron bars, and it happened to fall on a sentinel's head. He immediately 
stepped up to the lower window, and fired up through the floor, the ball 
entering a hammock in which a sick m.m lay. The report of the musket 
brought the whole guard into the yard. The prisoners were greatly enraged, 
and swore they would kill that soldier if he ever appeared again on guard. 

A dozen prisoners made their escape one night. They contrived to got 
through the grates of the chamber of the long prison, by putting a beam 
from the window obliquely, so as to reach a small out-house near the wall 
of the adjacent yard, and then lashing hammocks together, lowered them- 
selves from the beam into the yard. They were never brought back again, 
as was often the case. When deserters were caught, they wore doomed to 
suffer in the "dark hole" certain days, and were also liable to be impressed 
on board a man-of-war. 

In the gate through the prison wall was a hole large enough to pass water- 
cans through it, but not large enough for a nnin to get through, unless ho 
were very small. Every morning it was necessary to number <is many 
].ersons out, as they had the previous evening. A good deal of ingenuity 



2S-2 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

was therefore required by the prisoners to conceal a fraud. A Dumber of 
boys were in prison, and dependence was placed on those to make up for the 
escapades. A group of prisoners first out stationed themselves about the 
gate, and a hid was crowded through the hole and received inside, and he 
would go in the end door, and preseut himself at the fore door, and be 
numbered the second time. Then a second lad would be crowded through 
tlie hole, and a third, and so on. lie would wear a cap, or go in bare- 
headed. Sometimes they would borrow a boy or two who had been num- 
bered out of some other part of the jjrison. The poor fellows would often 
got prodigiously squeezed, in passing through the hole, but their squalling 
was drowned Ijy the boisterous laugh and shout set up for that jnirpose. 
This maj- be called a "Yankee trick," aud it was phayed over and over, 
until many of our friends had au opportunity to escape, or evade a hated 
regiment that might in turn be on guard. How all these escapes could be 
made, with sentries continually on guard, was to me most astonishing. It 
must be set down to Yankee enterprise. At length, however, the aforesaid 
hated guard came on, and there was no more squeezing througli that hole ! 
"There was no small stir." What had become of thirteen prisoners! 
These must have represented the thirteen States, never recovered ! 

" The British kiog 
Lost Stiitus thirteen." 

Colonel Laurens, of Charleston, was then our minister to Holland. On 
his way thither he was captured as a rebel, and imprisoned in the Tower of 
London. After the capture of Cornwallis, he was released on a parole of 
honor, and he visited Mill Prison. The prisoners considered this a high 
honor, and treated him with great respect. 

I diligently pursued my studies in navigation, but in the spring it became 
very sickly among the prisoners. At length I was taken ill myself. My 
distress \vas so great I could not assist others, as I had been accustomed to 
do. ily sight left me. One morning, surrounded by neiglilwrs, I remember 
hearing some one say, " Sherburne is out of his head ! " I was ordered to 
the hospital, where I was partially deranged several weeks. I was fearful 
I should not recover, and great was my horror of mind. My numerous 
deliver.ances from shipwreck and so many other perils, all came up before 
me, with all my forgotten vows to become religious — my solemn promises 
to God, my deliverer ! I was weighed and " found wanting ! " 

There was a person called " Uncle " Laurence, in the hospital. lie went 
in at an early period, and while there, became a convert to the Christian 
religion. The physicians had great confidence in him, and he had the 
respect of all. However tyrannical and inhuman the British government 
was in some respects, they arc to be praised for the provision they made for 
the sick in Mill Prison. 

When it pleased God to restore my reason, I was so weak as to be unable 
to raise mj'self in bed, and mended slowly. One day two friends said, " Sher- 
burne, why do you lie here ? Come, you must get up ! " I told them I 
could not. " We will help you," said they ; " The doctor has directed us 
to help you." They got my clothes on, and made out to get me into the 
yard, holding me by the arms, but I fainted, and was carried back to my 



OF AMERICANS. 2S3 

couch. The next day I was taken out again, and was able to stand, witli 
tliG help of a staff. 

About this time news had been received, that the ship "Lady's Adven- 
ture" had got into Plymouth Sound to take home an exciiange of prisoners. 
The joy among the prisoners was indescribable. To raise my spirits, the 
good doctor told me the ship would take us to our countr}', and would sail 
in three weeks, and that I must take the best possible care of myself that I 
might go in her. This ship was bound to Boston ; and in a week or two, 
another was going to Philadelphia ; and in a few weeks, another would take 
the remaining prisoner to some United States port. The time finally 
arrived for the doctor to discharge all who had sufHciently .recovered. 
Everyone went to his own bed, and sat till the doctor passed b}- him. lie 
passed me pleasantly, but did not take down my name ! My heart sank 
within me. I rose and followed him, and as he was about leaving the 
hospital, said, "Doctor, I believe you have not got my name." He 
replied, " God bless you, my son, it will never do for you to think of leav- 
ing the hospital in your situation ! You are more fit to enter than leave it." 
" Sir," said I, deeply grieved, "you promised that I should go in this ship !" 
He replied, " I was in hopes you would be able, but you are so sick that it 
will never do : you would not live to get outside of the Eddystone : four 
hundred are going ; you will be cro\vded, and will die. I would be happy 
to discharge you, but we have had a hard time in raising you, and would be 
sorry to lose you now, through your own imprudence. You would never 
live to see America, and your blood would be on my head. There is 
another ship going in a week or two, and I am in hopes you will be strong 
enough to go — have patience." "But, sir," said I, "that ship is going to 
Philadelphia, audi should be a great way from home." "No matter for 
that, you will be in your own country," said tlie doctor. "But all my 
acquaintance and townsmen are going in this shij), and she is going near my 
liome, and if I do not go in her I shall never get home." " Uncle Laurence," 
and twenty others, were listening to our conversation, and tears ran down 
his manly face ; and the reader can judge how it was with me. Uncle 
Laurence then said, " Doctor, I don 't know but you may as well discharge 
him ; and as I go in the same ship, I give my word that I will pay par- 
ticular attention to him." " well, then," said the good doctor, " I will 
venture to disch.arge him ; I can trust him in your care, and hope he will do 
well : but if he dies, his blood must be upon his own head." "0, sir," said 
I, " The sea always agrees with mc, and I believe I should gain faster on 
shipboard than here." That same day, we were guarded from the hosjiital 
to the j'vrison ! 

When our company entered the prison yard, the first townsman who 

spoke to me was John B r, a "respectable" young man, but would have 

been considerably more so if less intemperate and profane. "Why. d — n 
ye, Sherburne, are you alive ? We heard you were dead. Why, I thonglit 

the d 1 had got you before this time ! We did n't know but you might 

go to heaven ! Why, they said Sherburne was as crazy as the d 1 down 

there in the hospital, and that he prayed like a minister. I did n't know 
but that you might have gone to heaven." I knew not that a creature in 
existence ever heard me pray ; and if I had been detected in the grossest 



2Si ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

villainy I could not have boon more mortified. Alas ! that Euch should be 
the depravity of human nature, as to think it shame to show reverence for 
God, or any regard as to the eternal welfare of the immortal soul ! I hurried 
out of his sii;ht as quick as possible. 

The time now came to embark for our native land. All was life and joy 
on this happy occasion. Some had been absent six years. I ftdt quite 
revived at my prospects, and made out to walk a little with two canes, and 
had to be put on board. My Portsmouth friends released my good friend 
Laurence from his charge. The ship's crew had but little to do, for there 
were many smart sailors among the prisoners, and it was mere diversion for 
them to work the ship. 

We had not been out many days before there was a revolution. His 
majesty allowed us only two-thirds of our provision, of which there was a 
great plenty on board. We Yankees were determined to have enough to 
eat ; and as we had a number of native American officers, a plan was con- 
cocted, and at a certain signal, all wfire to rush on the quarter-deck, and 
seize the helm ; and our officers were to inform the captain we had com- 
mand of his ship. Their number being less than fifty, no resistance was 
made to four hundred men. All we wanted .was a full allowance ; and 
having obtained it, the ship was given up to Captain Humble. Wo had a 
long, though pleasant voyage. The ship was ordered to Boston ; but, as 
there was a very large proportion of prisoners belonging to Marblehead, it 
was insisted by our friends that we should land at that place, Willis and 
myself among the rest. 

Thus, by the mercy of God, after an eventful absence of fifteen months, 
we set foot once more on our dear native land. To me it was a theme of 
unceasing astonishment to call up in review the various changing scenes 
through which I had passed, since I first went on board the Greyhound. 
No high coloring has been attempted in these simple sketches : Simplicity 
and truth need not " the foreign aid of ornaments." Many were the shocks 
I have received in my wayward pilgrimage, but every shock has eventually 
tended to settle me. 

It was now two years since I landed at Rhode Island from Charleston. 
I then had a guardian : now I had none ; and what was worse, I was penniless. 
However, I remembered that the adventurers of the Greyhound had 
appointed an agent, a Mr. Poster, of Salem, where I found him. But he 
knew nothing about us personally, though our names had been sent to him. 
He was, therefore, very inquisitive, for Willis and I had entered the priva- 
teer, after she left Salem. During the conversation, who should enter the 
room but Lieutenant Tucker, of the Greyhound ! It was some time before 
we recognized him, for his appearance was much more genteel now than 
formerly. From him we ascertained that nothing was known of our fate : 
it was supposed we were all lost at sea, a most natural conclusion. The 
Greyhound had taken a valuable prize, an English brig with a fine cargo, 
bound to Quebec, which was taken to Salem. The Greyhound was after- 
ward captured, and taken to Halifax, but her prisoners, after a short confine- 
ment, were exchanged, and all got home safely. Our share of the prize was 
£63 sterling, each. Mine had been drawn by a power of attorney which I 
left with my mother. Willis' father had drawn his, so that nothing was 



OF AMEIUCANS. 2S5 

coming. Licuteuaut Tucker and Mr. Foster, however, liad Ihc kindness to 
give us eaoli two or tliree dollars to bear our expenses home. 

We then tooji leave of our generous friends, and betook to our journey 
with pleasure indescribable. For a year and a quarter we had been com- 
panions in travel and suDfering, and we never fell out by the way. With no 
company but ourselves, wo took a full view of the eventful and sorrowful 
past. The gloomy scenes we had escaped afforded a jjleasing offset to our 
anticipated joys of seeing kindred and friends once more. The light and 
shade of this picture were in striking and most delightful contrast. 

To my mother, sisters, and brethren, I was as one rose from the dead ; 
for, till recently, they had despaired of ever seeing me more. Some of my 
associates who were ahead of me, gave them information of my being on 
the way. This might be for the best ; for though I did not reach my home 
to them unexpectedly, my poor mother was almost frantic Avith joy, and 
literally cried out, " This my son that was dead is alivo again ; he was lost 
and is found ! " And so they all " began to be merry." It was a joyous 
time of smiles and tears ! Tears ! for my mother was yet a mourner for 
her first born son, Thomas. Alas ! his fate was never known ! Smiles ! 
for her other son had returned, and my mother had "received him safe and 
sound." 

My friend Willis tarried with me one night. In the morning I accom- 
panied him to the wharf, \vhere he found a coaster for Saco, four miles from 
Cape Porpoise, where he lived. We parted ; and never again met ! 

Nothing could be more entertaining to my friends and brethren, than to 
hear Andrew tell his stories of his checkered life. In all this there may 
have been ambition and vanity. But men who have patience to read these 
pages, will remember that they were once boys. 

But however interesting it might bo to narrate my "hair-breadth 'scapes 
in the imminent, deadly breach," and of being "taken by the insolent foe," 
this business v/ould not do to live by. My health was now good. I had 
ambition, and was still in the prime of youtli. It became a question with 
me what I should do. To beg I was ashamed ; to dig I had almost for- 
gotten. It was two years since I had landed at Rhode Islanil, from Charles- 
ton. After a full deliberation, it was decided that I mu.st needs try the 
sea again. 

A brig named the Scorpion, was to sail for the West Indies, commanded 
by my good friend and tutor in Mill Prison, R. S. Tibbitts. This brig was 
soon ready for sea, and I left my mother and sisters again in tears. When 
out &ve days, wo were descried by one of his most gracious majesty's 
frigates, the Bee, of sixteen guns, which came within a mile of us. We 
managed our vessel in a most masterly style, and finally escaped. This 
extraordinary chase and maneuvering must have been deeply interesting to 
a looker-on. It was my first voyage to the West Indies. We touched at 
Gaudaloupe and Montserrat. It was repugnant to my feelings to see the 
hungry and almost naked slaves sinking under their burdens, and suffering 
from the cruel scourges of their drivers. Some had iron collars round their 
necks, with four hooks, each fifteen to twenty inches long — one over each 
shoulder, one before, and one behind. Otliers had a heavy chain fastened 
to the leg; and sometimes two persons were chained together. Children 



2S6 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

were entirely naked. Men had no clotbing but a coarse aprun, reaching a 
little above the knees ; and females had nothing but an apology for a petti- 
coat of coarse stuff. The women could balance a tub of water, or a lar^e 
basket of fruit, or of bottles, without putting their hands to them. Having 
discharged our cargo, and taken the proceeds in West India produce, we 
sailed fur Alexandria, Virginia. On approaching the coast of Virginia, we 
had a terrific gale. In the morning we saw three large ships within a few 
miles of us, and we soon perceived they had experienced hard times as 
well as ourselves. We had no doubt they were British men-of-war. They 
made chase, and gained on us fast. We got out our long oars, and rowed 
all day, and made prodigious efforts to get out of the way, flying for dear 
life, not taking time even to eat. Night coming on, and the wind increas- 
ing, we could not use the oars to advantage. We made all sail we could, 
however. At midnight we hove about, hoping to escape our pursuers. Wo 
did, indeed ; but alas ! they were not our only enemies ; for at two o'clock 
we fell in with another of his most gracious majesty's ships, the Amphion, of 
forty guns. We were now standing directly for each other. As soon as we 
discovered her, we hove about ; but all in vain, for we were within musket- 
shot ! It was said of the ancient Amphion, that by the music of his harp 
he built Thebes, the city of the hundred gates. The music of the modern 
Amphion was not so charming, but it was certainly powerfully telling; for 
though she failed to bring us to by firing muskets, her heavy cannon did the 
work up most musically. To be within two days' sail of port, after all our 
hardships and imprisonment! and to find all our hopes so nearly accom- 
plished ! In a word, I had fallen into the hands of the enemy the third 
time, in addition to numerous shipwrecks ! I had barely escaped with my 
life from two imprisonments, and now my prospects were darker than ever ! 
It was now the middle of November, 1782, and about a year since my 
release from the Fairy, in Plymouth Sound. Thirteen of us (a representa- 
tive number), were put on board the Amphion, and stowed in the cable tiers 
under two decks, where we found a hundred more of our countrymen who 
had fallen into their clutches. There wo were, crowded almost to suffoca- 
tion, with nothing to lie down on but cables. We might as well hope to 
sleep on a pile of split-wood. We remained in this select apartment for 
two miserable weeks, when we were overtaken by no small tempest, but 
finally reached New York. But, horror of horrors ! it was only to be 
put on board the floating Bastile — that thrice-accursed contrivance of fiends 
incarnate — the Oil Jersey Prison- Ship \ The very name is enough to send 
11 chill of terror through the soul. It is one of the fittest types of the in- 
fernal regions on a medium scale that Satan could invent, if that which I 
call a type be not a branch of the same business in which devils are 
emplo\'ed. 

When I was imprisoned in the Old Jersey, it was toward the last of 
November, 1782, and I had just entered my eighteenth year. I now com- 
menced a scene of snftering almost without a parallel. The ship was 
extremely filthy, and abounded with vermin. A large proportion of the 
prisoners had been robbed of their clothes. The ship was much crowded ; 
the prisoners were low-spirited ; it would have been a miracle if otherwise ; 
and our provisions were horribly bad, and scanty. The beef was very salt, 



01' AMERICAXS. 287 

the bread worm-eaten, and had been condemned in ihe British Kavy. Tho 
broad (so-called for want of a name), liad been so eaten b}' weevils, that oiio 
might crush it in his hand and blow it away. The prisoners were divided 
into messes, and each mess made a division among themselves of the pro- 
visions that fell to them. The beef, as it was called, was all put into a 
copper five feet square and four deep, and would fill it within a few inches. 
The copper was then filled with water, and the cover put on. Our fuel was 
green chesnut. The cook would light his fire at seven or eight in the morn- 
ing. Sometimes he could not make the cauldron boil till twelve o'clcck, 
and in stormy weather, it would take till three o'clock ! I have known it 
not to boil during the whole day. It was 

" Double, double, toil imd trouble, 
Fire buru, aud cauldron bubble." 

But it may bo doubted whether "flesh of dog obscene," and Gipsey cookery, 
could out-do the meat in our celebrated "cauldron." It Wiis like the 
kitchen of the infernal regions — if such a thing may be imagined. Yet bad 
as our food was, we could not have it without infiuite trouble and vexation. 
This might be owing to the stupidity of the cooks, who were superseded by 
others in such cases. These unfortunate delays caused bitter complaints 
and heavy curses by the miserable, half-starved, emaciated, and imperious 
prisoners. Maddened with hunger each mess would take its meat, and 
divide it as it was. A murmur would be heard in every mess, and from 
every tongue. The cook was denounced ; and perhaps declined any further 
service ; another would volunteer, and in a few days, meet the same fate. 
There was a company of prisoners called "the working party," who brought 
water, fuel, provisions, etc. They, like the cooks, served a certain time, 
and had the privilege of being first exchanged as prisoners. 

There were several hospital or prison-ships lying at the Wallabout during 
the Revolution — the Whitby, the Scorpion, the Strombolo, the Hunter, and 
the Frederick ; but the Old Jersey has acquired the most satanio renown 
in history. These Ships of Death wore anchored about one hundred feet 
apart, and about the same distance from the beach. On both sides of 
Wallabout Bay, many human bones have been found. The late General 
Johnson, who resided in the vicinity all his lifetime, has often passed along 
the shore after a northeasterly stonii, and "seen human skulls as thick as 
pumpkins in a field." He "examined the teeth, and found them those of 
young men." Nearly twelve thousand prisoners were poisoned, starved, or 
died of fevers on board of those prison-ships. It is probable that five or six 
thousand more died from ill-treatment and famine in the churches and sugar 
houses of New York, and at various naval stations. Those who were buried 
at the Wallabout, were sewed in their blankets. Those who died in the 
prisons of New York, were cast into the dead-carts at the prison doors, as 
they died, and were often stripped before they were buried in the pits pre- 
pared for that purpose. Many prisoners were barbarously exiled to the East 
Indies for life. 

When I had been about a month on board, to 'j:iy astonishment, my uncle, 
James Weymouth, who was captured with me at Charleston, S. C, was 
urought on board ! lie also had been on a voyage to the West Indies, and 



2S8 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

was captured on his way home. It was with mingled sorrow and joy that 
we met on board this dismal ship. The Old Jersej' was dismantled, and 
had no rudder or sails. The British ensign waved from a flag-staff at her 
stern. At ebb-tide the bottom of this infernal hulk could be seen , and a 
most dreary and revolting spectacle of horror it was. Mr. Weymovlh was 
one of my best friends. I desired to place him on the list with Bowers, 
Pox, Tibbitts, and others, who bestowed so much care on me in Mill 
Prison, and on board the Ladies' Adventure. The British were at this time 
BO strong in Now York, and their vessels were so numerous, that they 
scoured our whole coast, and exceedingly annoyed our commerce. In the 
fore part of the Avinter, they captured the frigate Chesapeake, of about 
thirty guns, with about three hundred prisoners. About the time they 
were brought on board, the prison-ships were all excessively crowded. The 
prisoners from the Chesapeake, being fresh hands, and only a few hours at 
sea before they were captured, died very rapidly. The contrast between a 
healthful mode of living on land, and the horrors of the jmson-ship, would, 
of course, be the more speedily fatal to those who had suffered hardships 
for the shortest tune. I have described the bread and meat we had, which 
a dog would refuse to eat in good times. In addition to this salt meat and 
wormy bread, we had a mess of what was called bungoo, or mush, made of 
oat-mcal and water, something like Yankee hast3'-pudding, only it was not. 
This oat-meal was musty and bitter, and none who did not suffer from 
hunger as we did, could make out to eat it at all. Most of the prisoners, 
however, had some money when captured, and as there were boats alongside 
every day from the city, when the weather permitted, by this means soul 
and body were kept together a little longer, in the case of those who lived 
at all. As long as one's money lasted, he could have better fare than his 
most gracious majesty would allow. I had five or six dollars when 
captured, and used this pittance with the most rigid economy. Among the 
large quantities of provisions brought from the city, were livers of cattle, 
well boiled, chopped fine, and seasoned with pepper and salt, and filled into 
the small intestines of animals : a piece seven to nine inches long was sold 
for six cents. The most of my limited exchequer went for these meat 
puddings, and for bread. 

In January, 1783, I was taken sick and sent from the Old Jersey on 
board of the Frederick hospital-ship. It was a most distressing time for my- 
self and nncle, who had but a few dollars, and my money was now all gone. 
We were so much crowded that two sick persons had to lie in one bunk. I 
was put in with a young man named Wills, of Ipswich, Massachusetts. The 
bunk was set fore and aft, directly under the ballast-port, opposite the main 
hatchway. Wills was of a pleasant yet serious turn, and was persuaded he 
.should die. My mind was confused and agitated, and occasionally do- 
ranged. My bed-fellow was running down very fast, though I was not at 
the time aware of it. For want of room, we were often obliged to lie 
athwart each other. I found the poor fellow very accommodating. He had 
his reason till he became speechless, and finally died, stretched over me ! 
A death in that -)lace excited little attention. Not a day passed without 
one or more deaths. I have seen seven who died in one night, drawn nii' 
*nd piled together on the lower hatchway of the Frederick. There werH 



OF AMERICANS. 289 

about a dozen nurses for this ship for an average of one hundred sick. 
Whatever property the prisoners left, fell into their hands. If the deceased 
had a good head of hiiir, it was cut off and sold. The depravity of tho 
human heart was as fully e.xhibited in these nurses as any other class of men. 
Some, if not all of them, were prisoners, and I believe thej- had some com- 
pensation from the British Government for their services. They would 
indulge in playing cards and drinking, while their fellows were thirsting for 
water and dying. Many of them were among the side during tlie greater 
part of the day ; but at night, the hatches were shut down and locked ; and 
not the least attention was then paid to them, except bj- the convalescent, 
who were so frequently called upon, that they often relapsed and died, 
from over-exertion. After Mr. Wills, my bedfellow, was dead, I called the 
nurses to remove him, as his body lay across me, so that I could hot relieve 
myself : but they gave mo only hard words, and curses, and let him re- 
main nearly an hour. It was a great mercy they did not take away the two 
blankets we had under us, a great-coat, and a little straw in a sack ; yet even 
with these I suffered extremely from cold. Tho reader will form some idea 
of my dreadful sufferings when I state, that I frcijuently toiled nearly all 
night by rubbing ray hands and legs to keep them from freezing. Some- 
times I would almost give up in despair, but again feel excited to renew my 
exertions. In consequence of these severe chills, I have worn a laced stock- 
ing for nearly thirty years. My bunk was directly against the ballast-port, 
which was not caulked ; and when there was a snow-storm, the snow blew 
through on my bed three or four inches deep. This was one advantage, as 
I could otherwise get no water to quench my thirst. A gill of very poor 
wine and twelve ounces of sour, musty bread, was the daily allowance for 
the, sick. There was a small sheet-iron stove between decks, but the fuel 
was green and scarce ; but as there were always a number of peevish, surl^' 
fellows around it, I never had an opportunity to sit by it ; though I was 
generally lucky enough to get some one to lay a slice of bread on it for 
toasting, to put into my wine and water. We sometimes failed to get our 
wine for several successive days ; and though we had the promise of its 
being made up to us, the promise was seldom kept, as might be expected. 
With the little money my uncle gave me, I sent ashore by one of the 
nurses and bought a tin pint-cup, a spoon, a few oranges, and a pound or 
two of sugar; but I question if I got the worth of my money. The cup, 
however, was of infinite service. We were always careful to get our cups 
full of water before the hatches were shut down for the night, though wo 
often had great difficulty in getting even this small favor, as the water was 
not easily got out of the casks which were frozen up. At the close of the 
day, a dozen would apply for water at one time, and I was frequently 
obliged to plead hard to get my cup filled. My bread I could not eat, and 
gave it to those who brought me water. I have given them three days' 
allowance for one ouj). It was necessary to use tho strictest economy, 
restricting myself to a certain number of swallows, and make them very 
small ; but my thirst was so extreme, that I sometimes overrun my 
number. This finally became a fixed habit for many years ; and to this 
day I find myself counting my swallows. 

For the honor of the good citizens of Xew York, I must not omit to tell 



290 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

the reader how they supplied all the sick with a pint a-da}' of good Bohea 
tea, well sweetened with molasses. This, I have iio doubt, saved the lives 
of hundreds. I knew no person on board of this hospital-ship, and owing 
to the seveiit\- of my illness, and occasion.al derangement, cannot give full 
details, which, indeed, would be revolting, on .account of its almost in- 
credible filthiness. My prevailing fear was that I should die; and that in 
consequence of my ingratitude and wickedness, hell would be my portion. 
I had frequently, in times of great distress, promised an amendment of life ; 
and I now agaiu prayed that God would spare me, and renewed my broken 
promises. It w.as God's good pleasure to raise me up again, so as to walk 
with difficulty, and I was returned to the Jersey prison-ship. As I went 
below into this abode of despair, language would fail to convey any idea of 
its melancholy aspect. My first object was to find my uncle. Alas ! he 
was sick, and was required to return in the same boat in which I just came ; 
and I could only be indulged in an interview of five minutes. Yet even 
this was an unspeakable treat to me. He seemed discouraged, and with 
tears bade me adieu, with little hope of ever meeting again. I shall let the 
reader judge my feelings. I found a lad, named Stephen Kichols, very 
sick and low-spirited. We had known, and were much attached to each 
other. He informed me of the fate of Mr. Davis, our gunner, and this 
added to our melancholy ; and we stalked about the decks, lamenting our 
forlorn condition. In a few days orders came to remove all the prisoners 
from the Jersey to transport-ships, that the ship might be cleansed. As 
soon as we were removed, a heavy storm came on, and the ship being ex- 
cessively crowded and wet, our plight was absolutely distressing. There 
was not room for each one to Ho down on deck, and many took violent 
colds, myself among the rest. In a few days after we were all agaiu trans- 
ferred back to the Old Jersey, I was sent off again to a hospital-ship ; and on 
descending the hatchway, I met my uncle Weymouth ! Our joy at meeting 
again was equal to our despair when we parted some time before, yet it may 
well be believed there was bitterness enough in ourcup of momentary pleasure. 
My uncle was depressed in spirit, but had his reason in his distressing ill- 
ness, and it pleased God to continue my own reason. He slowly recovered. 
It cannot be pleasing to the reader nor myself, to give these doleful 
details ; yet it may not be unprofitable for the present generation to know 
the fearful sacrifices our fathers endured for our benefit. Nay, it is a 
duty to study all their sufferings, in these days of luxurious ease, and vain- 
glorious boasting. The trying scenes passed by these prisoners, were various 
and heart-rending. Here, for instance, near me, is one with his legs frozen ; 
I have seen the toes and bottom of the feet fall off, and hang down by the 
heel ! Two brothers, John and Abraham Hall, of the Scorpion's crew, 
were dying, as one lay across the other; yet this was unavoidable. The 
men who were near swore hard at John, while Abraham cried out for him 
to get off. John made no reply. In the morning he was dead, and his 
brother died the same day. Finallj', there were but five out of our crew of 
thirteen ; the rest left their bones here. Tet a larger portion of other crews 
died. I know of none belougi^jg to the Fcorpion now living, except myself. 
John Stone, of Limington, Maine, w.is one of them, but he has probably 
been dead many years. 



OF AMKIilCAKS. 291 

Wliile I was confined with my uncle on Iho second Iiospital-ship, we 
received the joyful news of peace ! It wouhl have been still more joyful 
for us if we were all prepared to leave this dreadful place. Larjje numbers 
were released from the Jersey some weeks before, on what terms, I never 
knew. It w-as c.Kceediugly trying to our feelings to sec our companions in 
suffering daily leaving us, till the ship was almost deserted, without know- 
ing our own fate. However, we gained strength slowly. A Cjvrtel was soou 
sent from Rhode Island, to take home some from that State, and the com- 
mander of our hospital-ship had the humanity to use his influence to have 
us taken with them, and, to our unsjieakable joy, he consented. When we 
left the hospital-ship, only seven or eight remained, and most of them were 
convalescent. 

On our departure we had to sign some kind of agreement, with a promise 
to report ourselves at the commissiiry's nffice in Rhode Island. We now 
most willingly bade adieu to the villainous Old Jersey, and all lier liospital- 
ships. Considering the time of the year, our passage through the Sound 
was favorable ; and one morning before sunrise, we joyfully set our feet once 
more upon the land of liberty. According to promise, we gave our names at 
the commissary's office as prisoners from the Old Jersey. A trifling circum- 
stance happened on the morning of my arrival, which made a deep iin- 
pre.ssiou on my mind. As we passed a bake-house, we saw a fine heap of 
burning coals just drawn from the oven. We were much chilled, and went 
in to warm ourselves : we bad not had such a favor for the whole winter. 
'I'ho baker, who saw us warming, came running down the stairs in haste ; 
but noticing two such odd figures, he suddenly halted on the sUxirs. Then 
he approached us slowly, and inquired if we were from the prison-ship. 
We told him we were. "Really," said be, "you look as if you want some 
friend ! Are you not hungry ? Come, go with me." So s.aying, he led us 
up stairs, where his family resided. I was so weak that I could hardly get 
up stairs, supporting myself like a child, by putting my hands on the steps. 
On entering the room we saw a beautiful yoimg lady with a child on her 
lap. The room w;is handsomely funiished, and a nice looking woman was 
in attendance. "My dear," said the baker, "can't you give these men 
some breakfast? They have come from the prison-ship." "0 yes," said 
the lady, with a very sympathetic and modest air ; and immediately gave 
directions to the girl to make ready. The contrast between our present 
and former situation was so striking that I felt extreme embarrassment, and 
therefore had great reluctance in accepting the hospitality. " Come, sit 
down, sit down," said the gentleman, "and make yourselves a.s com'-'ctable 
as you can : you must have had a hard time of it ! You have been sick, 
but you have now got among your friends again ! " " Sir," said I, " we are 
not fit to be where clean people arc; we are troubled with vermin." "0! 
never mind, sit down, sit down," said he. The modest and friendly de- 
jiortment of his charming lady deeply affected me, and my tears freely 
llosved. Instead of a haughty, disdainful air, which too many would have 
sliown, on the introduction to a drawing-room of a couple of dirty fellows, 
she was in perfect contrast to all this prevalent pride. If I had not seen 
the tears in her eyes, I do not know that I should have shod any myself. 
! scarceiv know of an event in all mv checkered life that has made so iu- 



292 ADVEXTUIIES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

(Iclible an impression. A tliousand times I have said within my heart, "A 
thousand blessings rest upon thee !" I much regret that I do not Icnow the 
name of our kind entertainers. I have never been in Ehode Island since ; 
but if I wore in the same street again, I believe I could point out the house, 
if it is still standing. Our breakfast was of chocolate, ham, eggs, and warm 
broad just from the oven. It was consoling that none were present at the 
table but ourselves, as it would have been very mortifying to persons in our 
situation. For months wo had not made a comfortable meal : our appetites 
were keen : we were well nigh famished, and couseq^uently, we were in 
great danger from over-eating. My uncle gave me a gentle jog to forbear ; 
but as he continued eating, I had the politeness to keep him comjiany. 
When he left off, I also quit. We could only say to our kind host and 
hostess, " We are quite obliged to you," without in the least doubting that 
we were as welcome as we were thankful. 

The next thing was to get to Providence. We were moneyless ; but the 
master of a packet agreed to take our hammocks which we brought from 
the hospital-ship. It was nearly night when we reached Providence. We 
had but little clothing, and rolling up our blankets for packs, and stringing 
them to our backs, we stepped on shore. In our forlorn condition, wo had 
no thought of sleeping in a bed ; and we were a hundred miles from home. 
We stalked up the street in Providence, wondering where we should find a 
lodging. Yet this anxiety was but trifling, compared to our exultation at 
the thought of being in the land of liberty, and beyond the roac;h of British 
tyranny. We had not walked twenty rods from the wharf, when a gentle- 
man standing in the door of a drugstore hailed us. " Where are you from, 
friends ? — from Xew York ? " " Yes, sir." " Don't you want some refresh- 
ment ? Stop in that gate, and go into the house." The gentleman met 
us in the kitchen with a bottle and a glass, and gave us a cordial. Uo then 
ordered some victuals on the table, and requested us to eat ; which offer 
we were not slow to accept. We thanked our benefactor, and went on our 
journey. We had gone but a few rods, when a gentleman met my uncle, 
who was a little ahead of me, and viewed him closel}'. lie then cast his 
eye on me, and having looked steadily for a moment, passed me. After 
going several rods, he turned quickly round, and followed me, putting a 
dollar in my hand, saying, "You are from New York — here, divide this 
between you." He turned in haste, and would hardly hear me say, " I 
thank yon.'" I thought he seemed half inclined to give something to my 
uncle, when he met him, for he had his hands in his small clothes' pockets, 
but he did not. We walked on for half a mile : it was now sunset, and wo 
thought of trying for a lodging, but did not expect more than to lie ou the 
floor by a fire. I therefore knocked at a door, when a young woman 
appeared, looking quite astonished. "Madam, can we lie by your fire 
to-night?" inquired I. Without answering, she cried out, "Mother, 1 
really believe these men came from the same place Jack Robinson did !" 
The old lady then came rushing into the entry with one or two well-grown 
girls, and began rapidly questioning us. After answering some of hei ques- 
tions, I began to urge some of my own ; and the first was to know where 
this Jack Robinson lived ; for, as soon as the girl mentioned his name, I had 
iin impression that wo should have good quarters for the night ; and 1 



OF AMKUICANS. 293 

recollected a prisoner of that name, though I had no acquaintance with him. 
They then iiointed to the house hard by. We almost broke away from (ho 
good woman and her girls, and called at Mr. Robinson's shop duor. Tho 
f;ood man came to the door himself, and as soon as we inquired if Jack 
Robinson lived there, the good old gentleman exclaimed, " God bless you ! 
Why here is some more of them ! Wh}-, ho is my dear son ; come in, 
come in ! Why, Jack has just got home : wc thought he was dead, and 
never expected to see him again ! Come in, you de.ar souls, come iu!" 
Tlie tears ran freely down his cheeks ; his house was open to receive us, arid 
his wife and daughters were equally friendly. Jack was as lively as a bird ; 
and well he might be, for he had not been sick. When wo were about to 
retire for the night, we requested that the carpet might be removed, that we 
might lie before the fire iu our blankets. "0 no, you must go to bed." 
We objected that we were not iu a fit condition ; and finalh', the old gentle- 
man consented that we should lie on the floor, but wcnild not agree to have 
the carpet removed, as we desired. After breakfast next morning, we took 
leave of this happy family. Our progress was only about four miles that 
day, and on the next, but one; for the weather was cold, and we very 
sensibly felt the consequences of eating too freely. At Dr. Mann's tavern, 
his sons gave us some monej'. When we were within ten miles of Provi- 
dence, we called at a red house on the left side of the road. Here we were 
allowed to stay all night, but were expected to pay for our entertainment. 
We found we couhl gut horses at this place. The landlord, a wealthy 
farmer, had two sons, rather stupid, but fond of money. There were also 
one or two maiden ladies iu the famil}-, and a family of negroes. Wo 
plaiidy told thom our situation, and that we only wished to lie by their 
kitchen fire. The landlad}' furnished us an economical supper : her gene- 
robity was quite in contrast with that of the baker, the apothecary, and the 
Ri)liiusou family. We bargained with the close old man and his sons, to 
take us to a certain village about twelve miles distant ; but I am not able to 
say whether it- was Walpole, Dedham, or Attleborough. The money we 
got from Dr. Mann's sons, went as part payment for our horse fare and 
scanty supper. Al'tcr all the family had retired, however, the negroes 
began, in whispers, to be very inquisitive, as to whether they were to have 
their liberty, with others, at the close of the war. The old black woman 
went on to say how faithfully she had served her masser and missey, and how 
deblish covetous they were : " Dey would starve poor negro. Dey old 
masser and missey had money enough, but dey am too stingy to lay out a 
(0[)per ; and poor negro hab to steal bittles, or else dey would starve." The 
old woman granted herself the liberty to lay aside some provisions for her- 
self and children's supper. When the family were asleep, she made us 
welcome to take supper with them, and we did not need urging. 

The next day wo mounted our horses and pursued our journey. I rode 
a small, gentle be.ast, but ooidd not bear to have the animal go out of a 
v.-alk. The old bachelor who went with us was in a hurry to return, and in 
the course of the day, gave my horse a clap, which started him into a brisk 
trot, which caused ine to double dosvn upon the saddle, and check the 
reins as quick as possible, for the severe jolting almost took my life. As 
soon as I recovered breath, I assailed the old fellow with such an avalancho 



294 ADVEXTCRES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

of hard words tlifit he turned pale, and attempted no' more to drive 
my horse. 

It was late in the afternoon when we reached the villaije. There had 
been a town-meeting that day, and as there were many in the town who 
did not live on the public road, there was no small curiosity manifested at 
seeing such queer objects as ourselves, pass through the street. None 
were intoxicated, yet it would be strange indeed if some of them wore not 
raeny, especially as this was the first town-meeting 'since the joyful news of 
peace. Among the crowd were many old men, who, for the last seven 
j-eajs, had assembled to talk of their country's adversity. They soon formed 
a circle round us, and were extremely in<piisitive to know all about us, and 
how wo had fared. We gratified their patriotic curiosity, while the hn\\\ 
went round ; but we cautiously avoiiled drinking, having already sufl'ered so 
much from over-eating, after the long famine we endured while prisonei's. 
At length an old patriot made a motion that a little contribution be made 
to assist ns on our way home. A handful of silver change, amounting to 
about three dollars, was collected, and the landlord agreed to give us 
supper, and lodging in his bar-room. 

On our way next day, wc called at an elegant house in Iloxbury, te 
woi'm and rest ourselves. The lady had a dinner-party from Boston, but she 
came out into the kitchen richly dressed, exclaiming, "Bless me ! where did 
these poor creatures come from ! " Then turning to us, " Why, you must bo 
in a suffering condition ! Don 't you want something to eat?" Saying to 
the servant, "Do get some v.'ine for them — get me some eggs; let them 
take an egg with a little wine: it will be comforting to their stomachs. 
They must have some victuals — girls do set the table." My uncle had a 
violent pain in one eye, and lost the sight of it for awhile. The good lady 
pitied him much, prescribed for him, and had it bound up. We feasted on 
roixst-turkej', and other bounties, with which her table was loaded, and with 
many kind wishes, went on our way. At Boston, we received many atten- 
tions from Mr. Drown, a gentleman of about sevent3--fivc, and a high whig. 
His estate had suffered much while the British were in Boston. The old 
gentleman said he " was born fifty years too soon, to see the gloiy of Amer- 
ica." He did not suffer ns to go penniless, and called on some of his 
friends to assist us, though we still had most of the money collected for us 
at the town-meeting. 

We hired horses to t;d;e us on by short stages to Hampton Falls. Hero 
T had to part with mj' uncle. He had a journey of twenty miles to Epping, 
and I had about fifteen miles to travel. My younger brother, Samuel^ 
heiU'ing that I was on the road, met me several miles from home, and 
brought mo a horse ; but I was still so weak that I could not bear to let 
him go faster than a walk. 

TliKS it pleased a merciful Providence to return me to my afflicted 
mother. She wept bitterly to see her poor emaciated son. She was still a 
mourner for Thomas. My dear sisters were all affection. When my 
brother, who took me into another room to divest mo of my clothing, saw 
my bones projecting here and there, he fainted. I was now taken very ill, 
but had every attention. It was most surprising how I could have per- 
formed a journey nf seviTal hundred miles, so feeble and ill-clad a.s I was,. 



OF AMERICANS. 295 

ai.d ill the Je'ijlh of wlijtcr. But a reaction now took place, aud I liad a 
long and severu illness. In the spi-ing, however, I began to amend veiy 
slowly. 

lu the spring of 1785, I made another voyage to the West Indies, in the 
sloop Ilaudolph. Wo discharged our cargo at Trinidad, and on our return, 
touched at Barbadoos and St. Eustatia to purchase provisions, ours havin,t; 
been exhausted in our long passage, and we arrived in Portsmouth in 
November. 

In the following spring, I made yet another voyage, in the ship Lydia, 
commanded by my old friend Captain Tibbit.'f, to Lisbon, by way of Wil- 
mington, N. C, where we took a cargo of lumber and turpentine. Nothing 
uncommon occurred till we reached the coast of Portugal. We stood along 
the coast under easy sail, not wishing to approach near the land. The 
Algerines, at this period, were committing depredations on our commerce. 
Not long before this. Captain O'Brien was taken by these pirates, with all 
his crew, and kept in slavery many years. '\\'e lia'.l good reason to be in 
fear of them, aud kept a bright look out. 

One night, about twelve o'clock, as I lay in ray berth, I heard what 
seemed the distant sound of a human voice. At this time the captain waa 
on deck talking. Listening again, I heard the voice again ; and now felt 
greatly alarmed ; and soon discovered that the watch on deck heard tho 
same sound. The sound became more and more distinct, and ncared Ui 
rapidly. We were greatly alarmed. It was now time to be up and doing. 
All hands were immediately on deck. There was no question that the 
sound came from an Algerine galley, within one hundred .and fifty yards 
(.if us. She soon hailed us in different languages. Captain Tibbitts, who 
had the helm, gave them evasive answers. Never were people moro 
alarmed than we; never did a crew make s.ail quicker. We set our top- 
gallants, hauled our wind a little, and got out our studding-sails. By the 
time we could do this, our pursuer was within twenty yards of ua ! She 
feigned to be in distress, and designed to decoy us; for, having lain under 
the land without any sails set, she was not discovered by us in the daylight, 
uliile all our movements had been closely watched : and the maneuver was, 
in sea phrase, to run athwart of our fore-foot. Being to the leeward, how- 
ever, she had to depend on oars. The original design was doubtless tc 
board us, but when we were likely to shoot by, to decoy us. Not a rag of 
sail did she show till she had completely gained our wake, and tho chase 
was made with a full press of sail. But our ship was an excellent sailer, 
and soon began to leave her; and after a brief chiise, finding she was no 
match for us, she took in sails, and the Algerine pirate was soon lost sight 
of. Thus by tho mercy of God, we escaped murder or slavery. The nest 
day we got into Lisbon, and reported the particul.ars. A government brig 
immediately went in pursuit ; with what success, I never learned. 

Among the numerous objects of interest, was the destruction of Lisbon by 
earthquakes. Our ship lay near a large castle surrounded by water, which 
was said to have been sunk by an earthquake ; and our boat often passed 
over other sunken places. I also noticed tokens of those awful calamities 
on shore. What greatly astonished me, was the hundreds of wagon loads 
of fruits of all kinds piled up in the market sqiuare — grapes of many 



296 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

Tarieties, figs, oranges, lemons, everything, in incredible abundance. Hun- 
dreds of females in companies were riding on jacks, with large hampers of 
fruit slung on each side, going to market. It was curious to walk through 
the market and see the great variety and abundance of fish. Fishermen 
had their families in boats, and I doubted whether many of them had any 
other habitation. In their boats they kept a small tub, with some gravel in 
it, and a small iron grate, on which they put coal, and cooked their fi.sh in 
cartheti pots. Wlien they came from selling fish in the market, thoy would 
bring large water-melons in their arms, and eat them with stewed fish, 
'i'hey made free use of raw onions, some of which were as large as a com- 
mon saucer, and only an inch and a half thick. I did not notice that they 
had any other vegetable, bread, or meat. 

In one street, called " Rag Fair," all the shops were occupied by Jews 
who sold clothing. The moment one enters this odd-looking vicinage, his 
attention is arrested by the vociferations of these Israelites, standing in their 
shop-doors. They beckoned from both sides of the street, to inveigle a 
passenger inside. To effect this object, so dear to their hearts, all sorts of 
gestures and maneuvers are brought into play. When the door of any one 
of them is approached, he is beset and surrounded by a dozen of these 
shysters, all fully determined to drive a bargain. When any one succeeds 
in getting a person inside, he is shown articles in great variety ; this, that, 
and the other, is urged on him : the goods are cheapened again and again. 
" Uere, take this for so much," and it is next to impos.-,ible to get out of 
their clutches without buying something; and whatever it is, the buyer is 
done for. On leaving the shop he is sure to be seized by a dozen more, and 
happy is he, if he escapes their importunities, and gets into the street again 
with a whole skin. We often passed through this street, for no other object 
but to see those unmitigated sharpers display their peculiar cunning, and 
tricks of trade. 

One evening about sunset, as I was going on board the ship, I saw about 
fiftv men carrying a cable on their shoulders; and when a certain bell 
began to ring, a large number of them left their burdens to others, and for 
the space of a minute attended to their devotions, crossing themselves, and 
tolling their beads. It was curious to notice how patiently the others stood 
under their heavy burden, until their fellows returned. 

The streets were very narrow, but there was here and there an open 
square. At one of the largest in the city, in one comer, a wax statue of the 
Virgin was placed, about ten feet from the ground, inclosed in glass, and 
with the infant Saviour in her arms. All the Portuguese, gentle or simple, 
were careful to take off their hats when they passed on that side of the 
street where the image stood. As for me, having no proclivities of that 
sort, I took care to keep on the other side. One day a funeral procession 
came along, and having the curiosity to examine it, I stepped into a shoe- 
maker's shop. Suddenly I found a fellow fumbling about my head with a 
long pole, with which he nearly uncapt me, and would have succeeded 
if I had not held it on, might and main. This caused the fellow to be 
more resolute, and I got some pretty hard thumps on my head. The man 
of the shop then gave me the hint to take oft" my hat, which I was not slow 
to do, when I knew the cause of his holv rage. I afterward ascertained 



OF AMERICANS. 297 

that it gave them groat offense to remain covcrcJ in tiie j resence of their 
sacred images, pictures, and what not. We live and learn, thought I. 

On another occasion I noticed a large collection of people near a market- 
square. Drawing near, I observed a corpse on a bier, and a bald-headed 
friar standing at the head, in a tone of mock-solemnity, repeating over and 
over a<'ain a long sentence in some unknown tongue. On the stomach of 
the corpse, which was a female, was a large earthen basin. The bosom 
was bare, and just above the left breast, a deep wound had been inflicted 
with a large dagger. The priest and the Portuguese spectators looked sad, 
and a sad sight it was. One and another would drop some change into the 
basin, which contained about three dollars, which the priest appeared 
anxious to increase. We were informed that the husband of this woman 
committed the horrid deed, having suspected his wife's chastity ; for she 
had been walking in the evening with another man. The husband had 
followed, and killed her with the dagger he had concealed in his coat- 
sleeve. The murderer then fled to the church, and put his finger in the 
key-hole, which act protected him ! The use made of the money is for 
any intelligent reader to imagine. 

But it is time to think of returning to my native land. We took part of 
a cargo at Lisbon, and sailed to St. Ubes for the remainder, and were con- 
veyed off the coast with a number of other vessels, by a Portuguese frigate. 
On our passage homeward we had tempestuous weather. It was November. 
We were several times driven back by Qerce winds ; our sails wore split, 
and we were out of fuel and provisions. Our caboose was carried over- 
board, whence we were in great danger of following. My boxes of chocolate 
and some other merchandise, which I took as an adventure at Lisbon, I 
could not sell to advantage, and so I had to keep it for a homo market. 
This bad luck, however, saved us from absolute starvation, having become 
reduced to a quarter allowance ; and we had a pint of chocolate twice a day, 
in consequence of my untoward luck in not being able to sell it ! In bad 
weather we had to pump all the time, as the ship was heavily laden. Once 
she leaked so much that we despaired of freeing her, and soon expected 
to find ocean graves ; but the same good, and gracious, and ever-watchful 
Providence, whose mercies had followed me all my days, in all my 
wanderings, and ingratitude, and forgetfulness of Him, had better things 
in store for me, and designed me for some useful purposes then to me 
unknown. 

We reached the desired haven of Portsmouth, my native home, in safety, 
to the great joj- of my surviving friends. My uncle Weymouth soon [laid 
me a visit. He had not been at sea since his deliverance from the Old 
Jersey. To me it seemed a merciful Providence that I had been induced 
by the earnest entreaties of my uncle to abandon all thought of any future 
voyage, and settle down with him in the country on a farm, in New 
Hampshire. 



The preceding narrative is not without a wholesome moral, while it 
affords many vivid pictures of an age of heroic suffering, in the cause of 



298 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Liberty. We may well wonder at our hero's stroug proijensity for sea- 
roving. While nearly all his early associates passed away "like the .swift 
ships " on a tempestuous sea, he was spared to more useful ends. His tale 
of hardship and almost incredible suffering, is left not so much for imita- 
tion, as instruction and admonition. Not till he became weary in his long 
and vain chase of phantoms, did he give them up. His experience was of 
much value in after life, when he became a successful minister of the 
gospel. He died in 1831, at the age of seventy. 



NARRATIVE 



CRUISE OF THE ESSEX, 



A UNITED STATES FRIGATE. UNDER THE COMMAND OP CAPTAIN DAVID PORTER, MADK 
TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN, IN THE VEAR3 1812. ' 81.'), AND 1814, THE PERIOD OF THE 

LAST WAR WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 



Thk three years' cruise of the Uiiitci"! States Frigate Esses to the Pacific 
Ocean, in tlie last war with Great Britain, was one of the most rema^l^ablo 
enterprises in the history of the naval marine of this or any other nation. 
Slie was the first American man-of-war that ever weathered the storms of 
the Cape of Good Hope, the first that ever unfurled the star-spangled 
banner over the blue waters of the Pacific. 

The journal of this cruise, by Captain Porter, the hold ard skillful com- 
mander of the Essex, was published in tw'o volumes in the year 1815, and 
is replete with novel and fascinating adventures. From it this narrative i.s 
mainl}' derived. 

The Essex was a ship of considcr.ablo note in our navy. She was a small 
frigate of thirty-two guns, and was built in the year 1799. She was em- 
ployed in the war with Trijioli ; and in that with Great Britain, had the 
first successful combat with the enerny. This event occurred in the sum- 
mer of 1812, when, after an engagement of eight minutes, off our Atlantic 
coast, his majesty's ship Alert struck her flag to the Essex, then under the 
command of Captain Porter. It is true that she was far inferior to the 
American ; but so exaggerated had become the opinion of the British prow- 
e.ss, that impossibilities were sometimes looked for, and hence the feebleness 
of her resistance excited surprise. 

In the succeeding autumn, the Essex, Constitution, and Hornet were 
assigned to the command of Commodore Bainbridge. The last two were 
lying in the port of Boston, and the Essex in the Delaware. On the 26th 
of October, the last two got to sea; orders having been sent previousl)- to 
Captain Porter, to rendezvous at Port Praya, in the island of St. Jago ; and 
Bccondl}' at Fernando Noronha. Other places were also pointed out to him, 
until a time mentioned, when, if he failed to fall in with the other vessels, 
he was at liberty to follow his own discretion. As he did fail in his 
attempts, his independent action resulted in the memorable cruise which 
we here outline. 

In obedience to instructions. Captain Porter left the capes of Delaware on 
the 28th of October, 1812. lie had a very full crew, 319 odicers and men, 

(299) 



300 ADVENTURES AXD ACUIEVEMENTR 

and from the muster roll before us, it seems that they must nearly all have 
been natives of the United States, as is indicated by the names. Another 
fact is worthy of mentiouin<5 in this connection, as showing a custom of that 
day : out of the whole number, two hundred and eighty-eight had not any 
middle names, and of the thirty-one who had, eighteen were officers. 

The vessel was well supplied with stores, and put in the best possible 
state for service. A double supply of clothing was provided, and fruit, 
vegetables, and lime juice, as anti-scorbutics. "We left the capes of the 
Delaware,"' says Porter, " with the wind from the northward, which 
gi'adually hauled around to the westward, blowing fresh, with thick 
weatl\er, and it was with difiBculty we wore enabled to weather the 
dangerous shoals of Cliincoteague. On the morning of the 29th, the wind 
hauled around to the westward, and increased to a gale. Got the ship 
under snug sail, and secured our masts by setting up the rigging, which, 
being new, had stretched considerably. The ship being very deep, we 
found her unusually laborsome and uncomfortable : her straining, occasioned 
by her deep rolling, opened her water-ways, and kept the berth-deck full of 
water, damaged a great deal of our provisions stowed on it, and wet all the 
bedding and clothes of the crew; found also the coal-hole full of water; 
found a leak somewhere between the cutwater and stem, but in other 
respects found the ship tight ; for, after scuttling the birth-deck and bulk- 
head of the coal-hole, found we could easily keep her free by pumping a 
few minutes every two hours. 

Previous to leaving the river, the crew had been put on allowance of 
half a gallon of water each man per day ; and being desirous of making our 
provisions hold out as long as possible, having views, at the same time, 
with regard to the health of the crew, I caused the allow ance of the bread 
to be reduced one half, and issued in lieu of the remainder half a pound of 
potatoes, or the same quantity of apples. Every other article of provisions 
was reduced one third, excepting rum, of which the full allowance was 
served out raw to the cook of each mess (the crew being divided into messes 
of eight, and a cook being allowed to each), who were accountable for the 
faithful distribution of it. For the undrawn provisions the purser's steward 
was directed to issue due-bills, with assurances on my part that they should 
bo paid the amount on our arrival in port. Orders were given to lose no 
opportunity of catching rain-water for the stock, of which we had a large 
quantity on board, every mess in the ship being supplied with pigs and 
poultry. The allowance of candles was reduced one half, and economy 
established respecting the consumption of wood and the expenditure of the 
ship's stores. Habits of cleanliness and care with respect to clothing were 
strongly recommended to the ofScers and crew. I now gave a general 
pardon for all offenses committed on board ; recommended the strictest 
attention to the discipline of the ship ; held out prospects of reward to those 
who should be vigilant in the performance of their duty ; and gave assur- 
ances that the first man I should feel myself under the necessity of punish- 
ing should receive three dozen lashes, expressing, however, a hope that 
punishment during the cruise would be altogether unnecessary. I directed, 
as a standing regulation, that the .ship .should be fumigated in every part 
each morning, by pouring vinegar on a red-hot shot, and confided to Lieuteu- 



OF AMERICANS. 301 

ant Finch the supevinteiidance of the berth-deck, in order to preserve it in a 
cleanly and wholesome state. Lime buing provided in tight casks, for the 
purpose of white-washing, and sand for dry-rubbing it, and orders given not 
to wet it if there should be a possibility of avoiding it, a comfortable place 
was fitted up for the accommodation of the sick on the berth-deck ; cleats 
were put up for the slinging as many hammocks as possible on the gun- 
deck ; and orders given that no wet clothes or wet provisions should be 
permitted to remain on the berth-deck, or that the crew should bo per- 
mitted to eat anywhere but on the gun-deck, except in bad weather. 
Having established the above and other regulations, as regarded the heal'h 
and comfort of the crew, I exhorted the ofiicers to keep them occupied con- 
stantly during working houi-s, in some useful employment, and directed 
that between the hours of four and six o'clock iu the afternoon, should be 
allowed to them for amusement, when the duties of the ship would admit. 

Prior to the pilot's leaving us, I caused him to deliver into my possession 
all letters which might have been given him by the crew, apprehensive 
that, from some accidental cause, they might have become possessed of a 
knowledge of our destination ; they all however contained only conjectures, 
except one, the writer of which asserted, as he stated from good authority, 
that we were bound on the coast of Africa : as some of their conjectures 
were not far from being correct, I thought it best to destroy the whole of 
them, and forbid the pilot's taking any more without my consent. To tho 
officers who were desirous of writing to their friends, I enjoined particularly 
not to mention the movements of the ship in any way." 

On the 23d of Xovember, the Essex crossed the equator. The ceremony 
of crossing the line was duly performed. " We were honored," says Porter, 
"by a visit from the gods of the ocean, accompanied by Amphitrite and a 
numerous retinue of imps, barbers, etc., in his usual style of visiting, and in 
the course of the afternoon all the novices of the ship's company were in- 
itiated into his mysteries. Neptune, however, and most of his suite, paid 
their devotions so frequently to Bacchus, that before the ceremony of 
christening was half gone through, their godships were unable to stand ; 
the business was therefore intrusted to the subordinate agents, who per- 
formed both the shaving and washing with as little regard to tenderness as 
his majesty would have done. On the whole, however, they got through 
the business with less disorder and more good humor than I expected ; and 
although some were most unmercifully scraped, the only satisfaction sought 
was that of shaving others in their turn with new invented tortures." 

On the 27th, the Essex entered the harbor of Port Praya, in the Portu- 
guese island of St. Jago. The town contained about three thousand in- 
habitants, of whom not over thirty were whites, the rest being negroes, 
slave and free. The soldiers numbered some 400 men ; the officers were 
principally mulatoes, and their priest was an oily mannered gentleman of the 
negro race. The soldiers were generally naked from the waist upward, and 
in the whole place there were not five serviceable mu.skets. Most all 
of them were without any locks, their stocks broken off at tho breech, their 

barrels tied into the stocks with a leather thong, or a cord made of the 

t 
fibers of the cocoa-nut ; and it was no uncommon thing to see a naked negro 

mounting guard, shouldering a musket barrel only. Thp'-r <-avalry were iu 



302 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

a corresponding stylo, mounted on jackasses, and armed with brolien 
swords. 

The Essex remained several days getting on board refreshments and 
water. It is supposed that there had been collected on board not less than 
one hundred thousand oranges, together with a large quantity of cocoa-nuts, 
plantains, lemons, limes, casada, etc. Ever}- mess on board were also sup- 
plied with pigs, sheep, fowls, turkeys, goats, etc., which were purchased 
very cheap ; fowls at three dollars per dozen, and fine turkeys at one dollar 
each ; many of the seamen also furnished themselves with monkeys ana 
and young goats as pets, and when they sailed from thence, the ship bore 
no slight resemblance, iis respected the different kind on board her, to 
Noah's ark. 

On leaving the port they shaped their course to the southeast, with a 
view of deceiving the people of Praya, and impressing a belief that they 
were bound to the coast of Africa; when however they had got out of sight 
of the town, the ship's course was altered to a southwesterly direction. 

"My chief care," says Porter, "was now the liealth of my people, and 
every means that could suggest themselves to my mind to effect this great 
object were adopted. The utmost cleanliness was required from every 
person on board, directions were given for mustering the crew ever_v morning 
at their quarters, where they were strictly examined by their officers. It 
was recommended to them to bathe at least once a day, and the officers 
were requested to show them the example in so doing themselves ; they 
were required, also, to use every means in their power to provide constant 
employment for the men under their control during working hours, and 
amusement for them during the hours of recreation, and to be particularly 
careful not to harass them by disturbing them unnecessarily during their 
watch below, and also to guard against any improper or unnecessary ex- 
posure to the weather ; economy was recommended to the crew in the use 
of their supply of fruit, and permission was given to suspend it in the 
rigging and other iury parts of the ship, in nets made for the purpose, with 
a promise of the severest punishment to such as should be detected in steal- 
ing from others : with those precautions to procure exercise and cleanliness, 
with proper ventilations and fumigations, a young, active, healthy, and con- 
tented crew, a ship in good order for the service we were engaged in, well found 
with the best provisions, and the purest water, perfectly free from all bad 
taste and smell, I do not conceive wdiy wo should be in greater apprehen- 
sion of dise;ise originating on board now, than on the coast of North 
America. The clouds which overhung the atmosphere during the day, and 
nearly obscured the sun, served greatly to ameliorate the elfects of its raj's ; 
a pleasant and steady breeze from the CiUit contributed greatly to refresh the 
air; and sailing could not be more pleasant than was our passage toward the 
line. The landsmen on board were delighted with it, and the seamen 
felicitated themselves that it was not alw.iys the case at sea, ' or all the old 
women in the country — as they expressed themselves — would have been 
sailors.' " 

On the 12th of December the Essex tools her first prize. This was the 
British government p.acket Nocton, mounting ten guns, with a crew of 
thirty-one men. On board was found fifty-five thousand dollars in specie. 



OF AMERICANS. 303 

Taking this out of her, Porter put a creu- of soviMitoon men on board, niiJer 
Lieutenant Finch, and dispatched her for the United States ; but she was 
re-captured on the route. 

Two days after thej' made the island of Fernando do Xoronha, where 
Captain Porter obtained a letter from Commodore Bainbridge, who had 
touched there, informing him that he would find the other vessels off Cape 
Frio, near the City of Rio Janeiro. 

Fernando de Noronha was found to be well fortified, and its population 
consisted of a few miserable, naked Portuguese exiles, and as miserable a 
guard. No females were permitted to be on the island, as if to render this 
place of exile more horrible. Ten days later the Essex was off Cape Frio, 
on the Brazil coast ; but no signs were seen of the Constitution or Hornet. 
Three days afterward, in fact, the Constitution gained her victory over the 
Java, off St. Salvador, some nine hundi-ed miles north of Cape Frio. On 
the morning of the 29tb, the Essex made another prize — it was the Eliza- 
beth, an English merchant-vessel. Captain Porter, after some farther cruis- 
ing on this coast, decided to run into the island of St. Catherines for water. 
They came to anchor on the 20th of January, 1813. This island is near 
the South American coast, some five hundred miles southerly from Rio 
Janeiro, and belongs to Portugal. "When the ship was anchored, I went 
on shore to fix on the watering place. We, in two days and a half, com- 
pleted watering our ship. The officers and men, in the meantime, pro- 
vided themselves with hogs, fowls, plantains, yams, and onions, in consider- 
able quantities, from the boats alongside ; but their anxiety to procure them, 
caused the Portuguese to take advantage of their necessities, and ask the 
most extravagant prices for everything, which some of our people had the 
follv to give, as if their stock of mouey was inexhaustible. This made my 
ijiterference necessary, as those who were not disposed to squander their 
money were likely to go without refreshments. I first began by punishing 
a man for paying a dollar for a dozen of rotten eggs ; and nest would not 
permit the boats to sell, after they had come alongside, until the price of 
every article was established as follows : three fowls one dollar ; nine water- 
melons for the same sum ; one dollar for a turkey ; and everything else in 
the s.ime ratio. After this, I kept persons to observe and report to me such 
as paid improper prices ; and by these means brought the market down to 
tolerably fair rates. 

On the Hist, I dispatched Lieutenant Wilraer to tho town of St. Catherines, 
in one of the ship's boats, accompanied by Lieutenant Gamble, Mr. Shaw, 
purser. Doctor Hoffman, and Midshipman Feltus. I directed Lieutenant 
Wilmer to wait on the governor, Don Luis Mauricio da Silvia, with my 
respects, and to thank him for the civilities I had met with, and gave him 
orders to return if possible the same day. I gave orders to Mr. Shaw to 
endeavor to procure a supply of beef, flour, bread, and rum ; to remain in 
town until it was ready, hire a vessel, and bring it down. The weather was 
squally, with heavy rains, when they started, as indeed was the case the 
whole time we lay here. I felt uneasy that the boat did not return in tho 
evening, but hoped, as the weather had grown much worse, that they had 
determined on remaining that night; however, at two o'clock in tho morn- 
ing. Lieutenants Wilmer and Gamble came into my cabin almost naked, 



301 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

and shivering with the wot and cold, and informed me that the boat had 
been upsot in a squall ; but that all hands had saved themselves, after hav- 
ing been four hours on her bottom. They fortunately were to windward of 
an island standing in the middle of the bay, where they drifted on shore 
and righted the boat. They lost all their clothes, as well as everything 
they had purchased in town, to the amount of six or seven hundred dollars, 
but were so fortunate as to find next day, among the rochs of the island, 
every article that would float. Lieutenant Wilmer informed me, that there 
would be great difficulties in procuring the articles required. 

Next morning, Mr. Shaw came down with five puncheons of rum, fresh 
beef for two days, a quantitj' of onions, and a few bags of flour, which were 
all that could be procured. The beef was spoiled before it came on board, 
and we were obliged to throw it overboard ; and shortly afterward, an 
enormous shark, at least twenty-five feet in length, rose along.side, with a 
quarter of a bullock in his mouth. It would be impossible to describe the 
horror that this voracious animal excited. Several of our seamen, and most 
of the officers, had been swimming alongside the evening previous. A man 
would scarcely have been a mouthful for him. When he firwt made his 
appearance, every one was impressed with a belief that it was a young 
whale. 

During our stay here, we were constantly attended by an officer from the 
fort, who was indefatigable in his attentions toward us. His name was 
Sabine, and his rank was that of sergeant-major. I waited on the com- 
mander of the fort the day after I anchored. He was a very old man ; his 
name was Don Alexander Jose de Azedido. lie received me with great 
civility, and, as has been generally the case with the Portuguese, expressed 
great desire that our cruise might be successful. The fort has been erected 
about seventy years ; there are mounted on it fifteen or twenty honey- 
combed guns of different calibers. Vegetation has been so rapid, that the 
walls of the fortress are nearly hid by the trees that have shot up in every 
part. The gun-carriages are in a very rotten state, and the garrison consists 
of about twenty half-naked soldiers. There is a church within the fortress ; 
and, as a substitute for a bell, is suspended at the door, part of a broken 
crow-bar ; and at the entrance of the commandant's apartments is the stocks 
(for the punishment of the soldiers), which, from their greasy, polished ap- 
pearance, I have reason to believe are kept in constant use. 

On the 25th of Januarj', 1813, I got under weigh and proceeded to sea. 
We were clear of all the islands about four o'clock on the morning of the 
26th. It was then necessary to decide promptly on my future jirooeedings, 
as our provisions were getting short ; I called on the purser for a report of 
them, and found that we had but three months' hrs-A at half allowance ; 
there was no port on this coast where we could procure a supply-, without 
the certainty of capture, or blockade (which I considered as bad); to attempt 
to return to the United States, at a season of the year when our coast ^v■ould 
bo swarming with the enemy's cruisers, would be running too much risk, 
and would be going diametrically opposite to my instructions. I was per- 
fectly at a loss now where to find the commodore, as he had departed from 
his original intentions, and had already disappointed me at three rendezvous ; 
the state of my provisions would not admit of going off St. Helena's to inter- 



OF AMERICANS. 305 

cept the returning Indiamen, nor wouUl my force justify tlie in'oceediug ; to 
remain, however, longer here, where I could get no supplies, would be a 
folly, and it became absolutely necessary to depart from the letter of my in- 
structions ; I therefore determined to pursue that courcio which seemed to 
me best calculated to injure the enemy, and would enable mo to prolong my 
cruise : this could only be done by going into a friendly port, where I could 
increase my supplies without the danger of blockade, and the first place that 
presented itself to my mind, was the port of Conception, on the coast of 
Chili. The season, to be sure, was far advanced for doubling Cape Horn ; our 
stock of provisions was short, and the ship in other respects not well sup- 
plied with stores for so long a cruise ; but there appeared no other choice 
left for me, except capture, starvation, or blockade ; this course, of all others, 
appeared to me also the most justifiable, as it accorded with the views of 
the honorable secretary of the navy, as well as those of my immediate com- 
mander. Before the declaration of war, I wrote a letter to the former, con- 
taining a plan for annoying the enemy's commerce in the Pacific Ocean, 
which was approved of by him ; and prior to my sailing, Commodore Bain- 
bridge requested my opinion, as to the best mode of annoying the enemy. 
I laid before him the same plan, and received his answer approving of the 
same, and signifying his intentions to pursue it, provided w'e could get sup- 
plies of provisions. 

I calculated that it would not take me more than two months and a hall 
to get round to Conception, where I was confident of ijrocuring an .abundant 
supjjly of jerked beef, fish, flour, and wine. I calculated, that the prizes 
we should make in the Pacific, would supply us with such articles of naval 
stores as we should require ; and although there was considerable responsi- 
bility attached to the proceeding, and the undertaking was greater than had 
yet been engaged in by any single ship on similar pursuits, time did not 
admit of delay, and, immediately on getting to sea, I directed mj' course tc 
the southward. 

Before I proceed farther, however, it is nei essary that I should say some- 
thing of St. Catharines. 

This island has been settled by the Portuguese about seventy years : the 
town which appears to be in rather a thriving state, is situated on that point 
of the island nearest the continent, and may contain about ten thousand in- 
habitants ; here the captain-general resides. The houses are generally neatly 
built, and the country at the back of the town is in a state of considerable 
improvement. Byt nothing can exceed the beauty of the great b;iy to the 
north, formed by the island of St. Catharines and the South American Con- 
tinent : there is every variety to give beauty to the scene ; handsome vil- 
lages and houses built around, shores which gradually ascend in mountains, 
covered to their summit with trees, which remain in constant verdure ; a 
climate ahvays temperate and healthy ; small islands scattered here and there, 
equally covered with verdure ; the soil extremely productive ; all combine 
to render it in appearance, the most delightful country in the world. The 
people of this place appear to be the most happj' of those who live under 
the Portuguese government, probably because the more the}' are distant from 
it, the less they are subject to its impositions and oppressions ; still, how- 
ever, they complain. There are two regiments of troops at St. Catharines : 



306 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

if provisions are wanted for them, an ofScer goes to the houses of the pea- 
santry, seizes on their cattle or grain, and gives them a bill on the govern- 
ment, for which they never receive payment. The peasantry are well clad, 
comfortable and cheerful in their appearance ; the women are handsome 
and graceful in their manners ; the men have the character of being ex- 
tremely jealous of them, and I believe they have sufficient reason to be so. 

As we proceeded southerly the cold began to be sensibly felt and woollen 
clothing to be more esteemed than it had been for some time past; the old 
jackets and trowsers that bad been lying about the ship were carefully col- 
lected as some suspicions of my doubling Cape Horn had got among the 
crew. 

I determined to make the best of my way round Cape Horn, and appre- 
hensive of some difficulties in going through the Straits of Le Maire, I de- 
termined to go to the eastward of Staten Land. 

On the 13th February at noon, I calculated that Cape St. Johns, the eastern 
port of Staten Land, bore South half West distant thirty five miles ; and 
although the thickness of the weather prevented our seeing more than a 
mile aliead, a confidence of being able to see the land in sufficient time 
to haul-off to clear it, induced me to continue my run ; breakers were dis- 
covered, bearing E.S.B. and S.E., distant about three-fourths of a mile, and 
in a few minutes afterward, the land appeared in the same direction ; we 
consequently hauled on a wind to the eastward, and sounded in forty-five 
fathoms water. We had now approached so close to the breakers, with the 
hope of weathering them, that we had not room to wear ; there was a tre- 
mendous sea running, the ship driving forecastle under ; no chance of 
weathering the land, which could now be seen ahead, bearing E. by N., 
running out in small lumps, and surrounded with dreadful breakers. Our 
only hope of safety was in getting the ship in stays ; the mainsail was set 
with the utmost expedition, and we were so fortunate as to succeed : after 
getting the ship about, the jib and spanker were set, and the top-gallaut- 
yards sent down ; but, in a few moments, the jib was blown to pieces. My 
first impression was that wo had been set by the currents to the westward, 
into the bay formed by the Cape St. Vincent and the coast of Terra del 
Fuego ; and, as the gale was increasing, and night fast approaching, the thick 
weather continuing, the wind directly on shore, with a tremendous sea, I saw 
no prospect of saving the ship, but by carrying a heavy press of sail to keep 
off the leo shore, until the wind changed. We kept the lead constantly 
going, and found our soundings very regular at forty-five fathoms, rocky and 
coral bottom. After standing to the W.N.W. about an hour, the water 
began to grow very smooth, which could only be occasioned by a sudden 
cliange of the current ; and whales appeared alongside the ship : this gave 
me hopes of being to the eastward of St. Vincent, and in the Straits of Le 
Maire ; a sharp look-out was kept for the land, and at half past seven, to 
(lur unspeakable joy, the land was discovered ahead, and on both bows, 
(li.stant about a mile. No doubts now remained, as to our being in the straits ; 
I therefore directed the helm to be put a-weather, and made all sail to the 
.■ioutliward, keeping the coast of Terra del Fuogo close aboard, and as we 
undoubtedly had the first of the tide, we were swept through with great 
rapidity, and at nine o'clock we were clear of the straits. 



OF AMERICANS. 307 

The land wo first made and attempted to weather, was Cajjo San Diego, 
on the coast of Statcn Land : the appearance was dreary beyond descrip- 
tJon ; perhaps, however, the critical situation of the ship, the foaming of the 
breakers, the violence of the wind, and the extreme haziness of the weather, 
may (all combined) have served to render the appearance more dreadful ; 
but from the impression made by its appearance then, and from the description 
given by others, I am induced to believe, that no part of the world presents a 
more horrible aspect than Statcn Land. The breakers ajipcared to lie about 
hilf a mile from the shore ; while wc were standing off, the whole sea, from 
the violence of the current, appeared in a foam of breakers, and nothing but 
the apprehension of immediate destruction could have induced mo to have 
ventured through it ; but, thanks to the excellent qualities of the ship, we 
received uo material injury, although we were jiitching our forecastle under 
with a heavy press of sail, and the violence of the sea was such, that it was 
impossible for any man to stand without grasping something to support him- 
self. Those only can have an idea of our tormenting anxiety and dread, 
from the time wo discovered the breakers, until wo made the land of Terra 
del Fuego, who have, like us, supposed themselves in danger of shipwreck, 
on a dreary, inhospitable, and iron-bound coast, inhabited only by savages, 
where there was scarcely a hope, that -one of the crew would survive the 
fury of the storm and waves, or, even if he succeeded in getting on shore 
alive, only to fall a victim to the merciless inhabitants of this gloomy region ; 
nor can he conceive the excess of our joy in discovering the land, unlos.s he, 
in an instant, has been snatched from the danger of destruction which 
seemed pending over him. Our fears and subsequent joys may, however, be 
more easily imagined than described. Had we been, as we supposed, to the 
northward of Cape St. Vincent, it would have required our utmost exertions, 
under the heaviest press of canvas, to have kept the ship from going on 
shore ; and the loss of a single spar, or the splitting of a top-sail, would 
liavc sealed our destruction. Our making the breakers in the manner we 
did, proved most fortunate, for had we passed through the straits without 
discovering the land (which would have been the case, had we been one 
mile farther north), I should have supposed myself to the east of Staten 
Land, and after running the distance which I believed necessary to clear 
Cape St. Johns, I should have steered a course that would have entangled 
us in the night with tlic rocks and breakers about Cape Llorn ; and had this 
happened, thick and hazy as the weather continued, our destruction would 
have been inevitable, as wo could not have seen the danger one hundred 
yards from the ship, even should wc have been apprehensive, and on the 
look-out for it, which would not have been the case. 

At nine o'clock we wore clear of the Straits of Le Maire, and in that part 
of the oco.an so celebrated and dreaded for the violent gales and tremendous 
and irregular seas which prevail. On the meridian of the 14tli, the horizon 
was somewhat clear ; the wind moderate, from the westward ; the sun shin- 
ing out bright ; and, with the exception of some dark and lowering clouds 
to the northward, we had every prospect of pleasant weather. The cape 
wa." now in s'ght, hearing north; and Diego Rarniries bearing northwest ; 
and the black clouds before mentioned, served weil to give additional horror 
to their drearv and inhospitable a,sppct. But so different was the tenipera- 
2IJ 



308 ADVENTURES AND ACtllEVEMENTS 

ture of the air, the appearance of the heavens, and the smoothness of the 
sea, to everythins; we had expected, and pictured to ourselves, that we 
could not but smile at our own creduhty and folly, in giving credit to (what 
we supposed) the exaggerated and miraculous accounts of former voyages. 
But, while we were indulging ourselves iu these i:)leasing speculations, the 
black clouds, hanging over Cape Horn, burst upon us with a fury we little 
expected, and reduced us in a few minutes to a reefed fore-sail, and close- 
reefed main-top-sail, and in a few hours afterward to our storm stay-sails. 
Nor was the violence of the winds the only danger we had to encounter; 
for it produced an irregular and dangerous sea, that threatened to jerk away 
our masts, at every roll of the ship. With this wind we steered to the 
southward, with a view of getting an ofHng from the land, in expectation of 
avoiding, in future, the sudden gusts, and the irregular seas, which we sup- 
posed were owing to violent currents, and confined to the neighborhood of the 
coast ; but in this expectation we were much disappointed ; for, as we re- 
ceded from the coast, the unpleasantness of the weather, and the freshness 
of the gale, increased ; and it was in vain that we hoped for that moderate 
and pleasant weather, which former navigators have generally experienced 
in the latitude of sixty degrees south, which we reached on the 18th. From 
the time we lost sight of the land, until this period, the gales blew hard 
from the northwest, accompanied with heavy rains, cold disagreeable wea- 
ther, and a dangerous sea. 

On the 24th, after experiencing a heavy gale from the N.W., I had the 
extreme satisfaction to find ourselves as far to the westv,-ard as eighty de- 
grees ; and as the wind shifted and blew from the S.W'., I had no doubt of 
bein"' able to effect our passage into the Pacific Ocean ; and I tor)k an op- 
portunity of thanking my crew for their good conduct, during our boisterous 
and unpleasant,^assage around the cape ; encouraged them to a continuance 
of it, by holding out prospects of indulgence to those who should so dis- 
tinguish themselves ; and, as some thefts had been committed, for which 
the perpetrators were then under the punishment of wearing a yoke, I gave 
a "eneral pardon, on condition that the first offender brouglit to the gang- 
way should receive three dozen lashes. 

It was with no little joy, we now saw ourselves fairly in the Pacific Ocean, 
and calculating on a speedy end to all our sufferings ; every hour seemed to 
brighten our prospects and give us fresh spirits ; and on the last of February, 
being in the latitude of fifty degrees south, the wind became moderate and 
shifted to the northward, the sea smooth, and every prospect of mild and 
pleasant weather. I consequently determined to replace the guns, and get 
the spars on the spar-deck ; but before we had effected this, tlie wind h.ad 
freshened up to a gale, and by noon had reduced us to our storm stay-sail 
and close-reefed main-top-sail ; it, in the afternoon, hauled around to the 
westward, and blew with a fury far exceeding anything we had yet experi- 
enced, bringing with it such a tremendous sea, as to threaten us every mo- 
ment with destruction, and appalled the stoutest heart on board. To attempt 
to convey an idea of the fury of this gale by description, would be fruitless ; 
let it suffice to say, that it was rarely equaled, and I am sure never was ex- 
ceeded. From the excessive violence with which the wind blew, we had 
ttron" hopes that it would be of short continuance; until, worn out with 



OF AMEKICANS. 309 

fiitigue and anxiety, greatly alarmed with the terrors of a leo-sliore and in 
momentar}' expectation of the loss of our masts and bowsprit, we ahnost 
considered our situation hopeless ; and to add to our distress, our pumps had 
become choaked by the shingle ballast, which, from the violent rolling of 
the ship, had got into them ; the ship made a great deal of water, and the 
sea had increased to such a height, as to threaten to swallow us at every in- 
stant ; the whole ocean was one continued foam of breakers, and the heaviest 
t'luall that I ever before experienced, had not equaled in violence the most 
moderate intervals of this tremendous hurricane. 

The whole of the 1st and 2d of March, we anxiously hoped for a change, 
but in vain ; our fatigues had been constant and excessive ; many had been 
severely bruised, by being thrown, by the violent jerks of the ship, down the 
hatchways, and I was particularly unfortunate, in receiving three severe 
falls, which at length disabled me from going on deck ; the oldest seaman 
in the ship had never experienceil anything to equal the gale. We had 
done all in our power to save the ship (excej)t throwing her guns overboardi 
which I reserved for the Ia.st extremity), and now patiently waited for the 
tempest to lull. It had already blown three days without abating; the 
ship had resisted its violence to the astonishment of all, without having re- 
ceived any considerable injury ; and we began to hope, from her buoyancy, 
and other good qualities, we should be enabled to weather the gale. We 
had shipped several heavy seas, that would have proved destructive to 
almost any other ship ; but, to us, they were attended with no other incon- 
veniences, than the momentary alarm they excited, and that arising from the 
immense quantity of water, which force<l its way into every j^art of the 
ship, and kept everything afloat between decks. However, about three 
o'clock of the morning of the 3d, the watch only being on deck, an enor- 
raou.s sea broke over the ship, and for an instant destroyed every hope. Our 
gun-deck ports were burst in ; both boats on the quarters stove ; our sjjare 
spars washed from the chains ; our head-rails washed away, and hammock 
stanchions burst in ; and the ship perfectly deluged and water logged, imme- 
diately after this tremendous shock, which threw the crew into conster- 
nation. The gale began to abate, and in the morning we were enabled to 
set our reefed fore-sail. In the height of the gale, Lewis Price, a marine, 
who had long been confined with a pulmonary complaint, departed this life, 
and was this morning committed to the deep ; but the violence of the sea 
was such, that the crow could not be permitted to come on deck, to attend 
the ceremony of his burial, as their weight would have strained and endan- 
gered the safety of the ship. 

When this last sea broke on board us, one of the pri-soncrs, the boatswain 
of the Nocton, through excess of alarm, exclaimed, that the ship's broadside 
was stove in, and that she was sinking ; this alarm was greatly calculated 
to increase the fears of those beloxv, who, from the immense torrent of water 
that was rushing down the hatchways, liad reason to believe the truth of his 
assertion ; many who were washed from the spar to the gun-deck, and from 
their hammocks, and did not know the extent of the injury, were also greatly 
alarmed ; but the men at the wheel, and some others, who were enabled by 
a good grasp to keep their stations, distinguished themselves by their cool- 
ness and activity after the shock ; and I took tliis opportunity of advancing 



310 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

them one grade, by filling up the vacancies occasioned by those sent in 
prizes, and those who were left at St. Catharines; rebuking, at the same 
time, the others for their timidity. 

On the 5th of the month, having passed the parallel of Chib', our suffer- 
ings appeared at an end, for we enjoyed pleasant and temperate weather, 
with fine breezes from the southward ; and we had a distant view of p.art 
of the Andes, which appeared covered with snow." 

They were all in high spirits and in momentary expectation of falling in 
with some of the enemy's ships. On the 6th she anchored at Mocha a small 
uninhabited land off the coast of Cliili, where some wild horses were shot 
for fresh meat. 

" I now considered myself in a good position to meet vessels plying between 
Conception and Valparaiso ; and as the health of the crew, and state of my 
provisions, or the distresses of the ship, did not yet render my going into 
port absolutel}' necessary, I determined to keep the sea awhile longer, ip 
hopes of meeting some of the enemy's ships, and thereby obtain such suj'- 
plies as would render it entirely unnecessary to make ourselves known on 
the coast, until we wore about quitting it. From the 8th until the 11th 
the weather continued fogg\', and the winds light and baffling from the 
northward, which prevented us from making any headway, and during their 
continuation deprived us of all hope of discovering vessels. Nothing could 
now esccL'd our impatience. On the latter part of the 12th, light airs sprang 
up from the S.W., and the weather began to clear off slowh-, and every eye 
■was engaged in searching for a sail, as the fog moved to leeward. Nothing^ 
however, was to be seen but a. wide expanse of ocean, bounded on the east 
by the dreary, barren, and iron-bound coast of Chili, at the back of which 
the eternally snow-capt mountains of the Andes reared their lofty heads, 
and altogether presented to us a scene of gloomy solitude, far exceeding 
anything I ever before experienced." 

The wind freshening up enabled the Essex to make sail to the northward 
for Valparaiso. They were disappointed in the appearance of the coast 
which had a wild desolate aspect, with no signs of inhabitants. It was 
skirted with a black gloomy rock against the perpendicular sides of which 
the sea beat with fury. On the 13th the Essex rounded the point of Angels, 
when in an instant the whole town of Valparaiso, shipping with their colors 
flying, and the forts burst out as it were from behind the rocks. " The scene 
presented to us," says Porter, "was as animated and cheerful as it was sudden 
and unexpected ; and had I not hoisted English colors, I should have been 
tempted to run in and anchor. A moment's reflection induced me to believe, 
that, under existing circumstances, it would not be advisable to do so, as 
several large Spanish ships, with their sails bent, and in readiness for sea, 
were lying in the port ; and as those vessels were, beyond doubt, bound to 
the northward, and in all probability to Lima, I concluded on keeping the 
Bea a few days longer, to give them time to get out, in order that intelligence 
might not be given by them of an American frigate being in this part of the 
world." 

The ship's he?.d co'.isequjntly was tMrned to the nor'.hward and khe ran 
the town out of sight in an hour or so. Two days after she returned, went 
in and anchored. To the astonishment of Captain Porter, he now ascertained 



OF AMERICANS. 311 

that Chili h:ul decUireil herself imlependent of Spain. He also learned that 
the Viceniy of Peru, had sent out rriiisers against American shipping, and 
that his appearance in the Pacific was of the greatest importance to the 
American trade, which lay at the mercy of the English letters of marque, 
and of these Peruvian corsairs. This was cheering intelligence after the 
fatigues and disappointments of so many months. Capt. Porter waited upon 
the governor, Don Francisco Lastre, who welcomed him in the most friendly 
reception, and returned his visit with a numerous suite of officers. Many 
of these had never before seen a frigate, it being tlic first that since their 
recollection had entered their port. They were much pleased and aston- 
ished that "Anglo-Americans" could build, equip and manage ships of so 
large a size. 

Agreeably to invitation, the officers of the Essex attended a party given 
by the governor, "where we found," says Porter, "a much larger and more 
brilliant assemblage of ladies, than we could have expected in Valparaiso. 
We found mucli fancy and considerable taste displayed in their dress, and 
many of them, with the exception of teeth, very handsome, both in person 
and in face ; their complexion reniarlcably fine, and their manners modest 
and attracting. This was our first impression on entering a room, containing 
perhaps two hundred ladies, to whom we were perfect strangers. Minuets 
were introduced ; country dances followed; and the ladies had the com- 
plaisance and patience to attempt with my officers, what they had never 
before seen in the country, a cotillion. The intricacies of their country 
dance were too great for us to attempt ; they were greatly delighted in by 
those who knew them, and admitted a display of much grace. With their 
grace, their beauty of person and complexion, and with their modesty, we 
were delighted, and could almost fancy we had gotten amongst our own 
fair country-women ; but in one moment the illusion vanished. The hallos 
lie tierra, as they are all called, commenced : they consisted of the most 
graceless, and at the same time fatiguing movements of the body and limbs, 
accompanied by the most indelicate and lascivious motions, gradually in- 
creasing in energy and violence, until the fair one, apparently overcome 
with passion, and evidently exhausted with fatigue, was compelled to retire 
to her seat ; her rosy cheeks and fair complexion disappeared in the large 
drops of sweet which ran trickling down her neck and breast, and were suc- 
ceeded by the sallow tinge which nature had bountifully bestowed. 

They daub themselves most lavishly with paint ; but their features are 
agreeable, and their large dark eyes are remarkably brilliant and expressive ; 
and were it n'jt for their bad teeth, occasioned by the too liberal use of the 
matti, would, notwithstanding the Chilian tinge, be thought handsome, 
particularly by those who had been so long as we out of the way of seeing 
many women. 

The mat.li is a decoction of the herb of Paraguay, sweetened with sugar, 
and sucked hot through a long .'silver tube; to the use of this beverage the 
Chilians are perfect slaves. The taste is agreeable, but it occasions terrible 
havoc among the teeth. We returned on board our ship, pleased with the 
novelties of a Chilian Ijall, and much gratified by tlie solicitude shown by 
every one to make our stay among them agreeable. 

The customs of the inhabitants of this place differ so materially from our 



312 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

own (and perhaps from those of every other people), that I cannot help 
noticing a few particuhirs that struck me as the most singular. At all their 
entertainments, the principal guest is placed at the head of the table, the 
host on one side of him, and the hostess on the other ; and their principal 
business appears to be to cram him with a part of everything before him. 
This duty they are apt to perform most effectually, if he happens, like me, 
to be a stranger, and not awaro of the variety of changes that are to be 
brought on, each one more and more inviting in their appearance and taste. 

There is another practice at their balls or evening parties, which at first 
gave me some embarrassment. A very large silver dish, filled with sweet 
jelly, was presented to me by a servant, as well as a silver plate and fork ; 
believing that the whole dish could not be intended for me, I attempted to 
take the plate ; this the servant objected to ; I then attempted to take the 
dish, but to this she also objected ; I felt, however, certain that it was in- 
tended for me to eat in some way or other, and was determined to do it 
in that way which appeared the most natural and convenient; I therefore 
took from her the plate and fork, and helped myself to as much as I thought 
I should want. The eyes of all the company, however, were on me, and I 
perceived that I had made some mistake, which I was soon convinced of, 
for the servant brought another plate with a fork, which was handed with 
the sweetmeats around to the company, and each one made nse of the same 
fork to take a mouthful, holding their heads carefully ov.t the dish in order 
that nothing might fall from their mouths to the floor ; the fork was then 
laid on the plate, and passed to the next. The matii is taken with as little 
regard to the delicacy or cleanliness. When the cup containing it is brought 
in, one of the company blows into it, through the silver tube, until a high 
froth is produced ; it is then considered properly prepared. The same 7)iaU» 
and tube is then passed around the room, and each one takes in turn a suck 
of it, with much apparent relish and delight ; but, considering the rotteu 
teeth and unsavoury breaths of the Chilians, there could not be a dose of- 
fered more repulsive to a delicate stomach, than this same frothy matti, 
served up in their style. It is also a practice for one glass of water, one 
spoon, or one cigar, to be served to the whole company, and one would 
almost be led to boHeve that they had a particular relish for the taste of each 
ather's dirty mouths. A Chilian lady would be ashamed to be seen walking 
arm and arm with a gentleman ; and their refinement is so great, that it is 
thought indelicate even to accept his hand in any way, except in dancing, 
when, to be sure, everything like delicacy is laid aside. They are, however, 
extremely hospitable and attentive to strangers; and if they Lave their 
peculiar customs, which seem strange to us, we no doubt have our own, 
etjually deserving their animadvei'sion." 

" For more than a week the Essex was employed in victualing, and during 
this time an American whaler came in from the islands. According to the 
accounts of the master of this vessel, the American whalers, which had 
left home during a time of peace, lay entirely at the mercy of those of the 
enemy, several of which had sailed as regular letters of marque, and all ol 
which were more or less armed. Many of the American vessels, as they 
ofteu kept the sea six mouths at a time, were probably still ignorant of the 
war ; and it was known that one of them, at least, had already fallen into 



OF AMERICANS. 313 

tno hands of the English. As soon a;i imperfodly viclualeil, tLu ship went 
to sea, to profit bj this intelligence. 

Ou the 25th, the Essex fell in with the Anieru-an uhale ship, Charles, and 
learned that two other vessels, the Walker and Barclay, had been captured, 
a few days previously, off Coquimbo, by a Peruvian, with an English ship 
in company. Sail was made, in consequence, in the direction of Coquimbo, 
and, a few hours later, a stranger was seen to the northward. This vessel 
was soon ascertained to be a cruising ship, disguised as a whaler. She 
showed Spanish colors, when the Esses set an English ensign, fired a gnu 
to leeward, and the Charles which remained in company, hoisted the Ameri- 
can flag, beneath an English jack. The Spaniard now ran down, and, wdien 
about a mile distant, he fired a shot ahead of the Essex, which that ship 
answered by throwing a few shot over him, to bring him nearer. When 
close enough, the Spanish ship sent an armed boat to board the Essex, and 
it was directed to go back with an order for the cruiser to rmi under the 
frigate's lee, and to send an oflicer to ajiologize foi' the shots he had fired at 
an English man-of-war. This command was complied with, and the ship 
was ascertained to the Peruvian privateer Ncreyda, anned with fifteen guns, 
and with a full crew. The lieutenant, who now came on board, believing 
that he was on board of an English man-of-war informed Captain Porter 
that they were cruising for Americans; that they had ahead}' taken the 
Walker and Barclay ; that the English letter of marque Nimrod had driven 
their prize-crew from on board the Walker; that they were then cruising 
expressly to look for the Nimrod, with the intention of obtaining redress ; 
and that they had mistaken the Esse.s fur the latter ship. It would seem 
that the Peruvians cruised against the Americans, under the impression that 
Spain, then so dependent on England for her existence, would declare war 
speedily against the United States, in consequence of the war declared by 
the latter against the King of Great Britain, which might legalize their 
captures. 

An interview with the master of the Walker satisfied Captain Porter that 
the captured ships had been illegally seized ; and hoisting American colors, he 
fired two shots over the Nereyda, when that vessel struck. Ller crgw were 
all sent on board the Essex, and the three ships stood in-shore to look into 
Coquimbo, in the hope of finding the Nimrod and the prizes, but without 
success. The next morning the entire armament of the Xereyda, with all 
her ammunition, shot, small arms, and light sails, were thrown overboard, 
and she was otherwise put in a condition to do no harm, when she was re- 
leaied. It is worth/ of rema, k, that tie guns of this vessel were of iron, 
while her shot of all descriptions were of copper; the abundance of the 
latter in that part of the world, rendering it cheaper than the metal usually 
employed for such purposes. 

From the master and crew of the Barclay, Captain Porter obtained a list 
of such of the whaling vessels as they knew to be in the Pacific. It con- 
tained the names of twenty-three Americans, and of ten English ships. 
The former w-as probably the most correct, as his informants added that 
quite twenty Englishmen were thought to be in that sea. The latter were, 
in general, fine vessels of near four hundred tuns burden, and, as has been 
said already they were all more or less armed. 



31 1 ADVENTUKKS AND ACIUKVEMKNTS 

Captain rorter had now a double object ; to protect his countn'men and 
to capture tlio enemy. The hvtter were known to resort to the Gallipagos 
Islands, but he liositated about stril;ing a blow in that quarter, until he could 
be assured that the Standard sixty-four, had loft Lima for Enj;land ; and, as 
he thought the prizes of the Nimrod and Nereyda would endeavor to go 
into that port, he determined to malce the best of his way thither, in order 
to cut them off, as well ixs to rcconnoiter. 

In the meanwhile Cajitain Porter disguised his ship, wliich was done in 
such a manner as to conceal her real force and exhibiting in its stead the 
appearance of painted guns, etc., also by giving her the appearance of having 
a poop and otherwise so altering her, as to make her seem to bo a Spanish 
nierehaut vessel. 

"On the 28th of April, the ship w;is up with the island of San Gallan, 
when she hauled off to the northward and westward, with a view to cross 
the track of inward-bound vessels. The next day, tiiree sail were made, 
standing for Callao. Everything was set to cut the strangers off, particularly 
the one nearest in, who had the appearance of the Barclay. The chase, 
however, would have escaped, had she not been becalmed when she doubled 
the point of San Lorenzo. At this moment the frigate was near a league 
distant, but, fortunately, she kept the breeze until she had got within a 
liundred yards of the enemy, when she lowered her boats, and took posscs- 
Bion. Tlio prize proved to be the Barclay, as had been expected. There 
was now a good opportunity of looking into the harbor, and finding that 
nothing had arrived from Valparaiso to disclose his presence in the Pacilic, 
Captain Porter showed English colors, while the Barclay hoisted the Ameri- 
can under the enemy's ensign. In this manner both vessels went into the 
ofQng, where the Barclay was given up to her jiroper ofljcers, though most 
of her crew having entered in the Essex, and declining to rvjoin the ship, 
her master preferred keeping in company with the frigate, ollering to act as 
a pilot in soarcliing for the enemy. With this understaniling, the two ves- 
S(ds stretched off the coast, to the northward and westward. From the end 
of March until the middle of April, the Essex, with the Barcla}' in company, 
Wiis standing acro.-;s from the main toward the islands, and on the 17th, 
she made Chatham Island ; but no ship was found there. From this place 
the frigate went to Charles' Island, whore she had the same want of suc- 
cess. 

Both of these islands belong to the Galapagos group. Lieutenant Downos 
went ashore at Charles' Island and returned with several papers taken from 
a box which he found nailed to a post, over which was a b'.ack .-iign on 
which was painted Ualhawni/'s post-ojjice. They contained the information 
already received of the practice of whaling vessels touching there and cruis- 
ing among the other islands for whales. From these papei-s information was 
oblainod that in tlio June previous, six English whale ships had put in there 
on their way to the island of Alberniarlo, where they generally cruised for a 
year at a time. There were also letters from the commanders of three 
American w-halers, showing that they had touched in there. Lieutenant 
Downes found near the post-office on this island several articles for such 
persons as might bo left there in distress, and, besides a suit of cloUies, 
tinder-box, and a barrel of bread, was left a cask of water. " This island is 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 315 

mountainous (iis are the wliole group), and is covered with trees from fifteen 
to twenty feet in longtb, scattered with considerable regularity, as to distanco 
and appearance, on the sides of the hills, which all have evident marl;s of 
volcanic origin ; but what seems remarkable is, that every tree on the island 
at least all that could be approached by the boat's crew on shore, and such 
as we could perceive by means of our perspectives, were dead and withered. 
These islands arc all evidently of volcanic production ; every mountain and 
hill is the crater of an extinguished volcano ; and thousands of smaller fis- 
sures, which have burst from their sides, give them the most dreary, desolate, 
and inhospitable appearance imaginable. The description of one island will 
answer for all I have yet seen ; they appear unsuited for the residence of 
man, or any other animal that cannot, like the tortoise, live without food, 
or cannot draw its subsistence entirel}' from the sea. 

On the east side of the island there is a landing called Pat's Laruliiig ; and 
this place will probably immortalize an Irishman, named Patrick Watkins, 
who some years since left an English ship, and took up his abode on this 
island, built himself a miserable hut, about a mile from the landing called 
after him, in a valley containing about two acres of ground capable of culti- 
vation, and perh.aps the only spot on the island which affords sufEeiont 
moisture for the purpose. Hero he succeeded in raising potatoes and pump- 
kins in considerable quantities, which he generally exchanged for rum, or 
sold for cash. The appearance of this man, from the accounts I have re- 
ceived of hira, was the most dreadful that can be imagined ; ragged clothes, 
scarce sufficient to cover his nakedness, and covered with vermin ; his red 
hi^r, and beard matted, his skin much burnt, from constant exposure to tho 
sun, and so wild and savage in his manner and appearance, that he struck 
every one with horror. For several years this wretched being lived by 
himself on this desolate spot, without any apparent desire than that of jiro- 
curing rum in sufficient quantities to keep himself intoxicated, and at such 
times, after an absence from his hut of several days, he would be found in 
a state of perfect insensibility, rolling among tho rocks of the mountains. 
lie appeared to bo reduced to tho lowest grade to which human nature is 
capable. 

We were little prepared to meet our second disappointnunit, in not find- 
ing vessels at Charles' Island, but consoled ourselves with tho reflection, that 
we should now soon arrive at Albcrmarle, and that in na?iks' Bay, the gen- 
eral rendezvous, we should find an ample reward I'ur all our loss of time, 
Bufferings, and disappointments ; and as we had a fine breeze from the east, 
I male a' I sail, stoo'ing x/est f.'om Obarljs' Island, to m-.ke the south head 
of the island of Alberniarle, whieh was distant from us about forty-five 
miles, and in tho morning found ourselves nearly up with it. When we 
had arrived within eight or nine miles of a point, which I have named 
Point Essex, the wind died aw^ay, and I took my boat and proceeded fur tlie 
aforesaid point, where I arrived in about two hours after leaving tho ship, 
and found in a small bay, behind some rocks which terminate the i)oiiit, 
very good landing, where we went on shore, and to our great surprise, and no 
little alarm, on entering tho bushes, found myriads of guanas, of an enormous 
size and the most hideous appearance iniaginablc. In some spots a half acre 
of ground would be so completely covered 'vith them, as to ajipear as though 



316 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEYEMEXTS 

it was impossible for another to get in tlie space ; they would all keep tlieir 
eyes fixed constantly on us, and we at first supposed tbem prepared to attack 
us. We soon however discovered them to be the most timid of animals, and 
in a few moments knocked down hundreds of them with our clubs, some 
of which we brought on board, and found to be excellent eating, and many 
preferred them greatly to the turtle. 

We found on the beach a few seals, and one fine large green turtle. Sev- 
eral of the seals were killed by our men, and proved of that kind which do 
not produce the fur. Nothing can be more sluggish or more inactive than 
this animal while on the sand ; it appears incapable of making any exertions 
whatever to escape those in pursuit of it, and quietly waits the blow which 
terminates its existence. A small blow on the nose will kill them in an in- 
stant, but when they are in water, or even on the rocks, nothing can exceed 
their activity : they seem then to be a different animal altogether ; shy, 
cunning, and very alert in pursuit of their prey, and in avoiding pursuit, 
they are then very difficult to take. After trying in vain to catch some fish, 
we left the cove, and proceeded along the shore to the northward, with the 
expectation of finding another landing-place, but were much disappointed ; 
for, after rowing as far as Point Christopher, a distance of fifteen miles, we 
found the shore everywhere bound with craggy rocks, against which the sea 
broke with inconceivable violence. Multitudes of enormous sharks were 
swimming about us, and from time to time caused us no little uneasiness, 
from the ferocious manner in which they came at the boat and snapped at our 
oars ; for she was of the lightest construction, with remarkably thin plank, 
and a gripe from one of these would have torn them from her timbers ; 
but we guarded as much as Lay in our power against the evil, by thrust- 
ing boarding pikes into them as they came up to us. 

Perceiving a breeze springing up, I hastened on board where, on my arrival, 
I caused all sail to be made, and shaped my course for Narborough Island, 
which now began to show itself open with Point Christopher. I was in 
hopes that the breeze would carry us clear of the northern point of that 
island before day-light, in order that we might have the whole of the next 
day for securing our prizes in Banks' Bay, which lies between Narborougli 
and the south head of Albermarle. To Banks' Bay the fishermen resort 
every year, between March and July, to take the whale, which come in 
there in great numbers at that season." 

My anxiety was such that I was induced to dispatch Lieutenant Dowues 
to take a look around the point of Narborough and reconnoiter the bay ; for 
tlie ship had been SA'ept by the current during the night, into Elizabeth 
Bay. 

At one o'clock in the morning, Lieutenant Downes returned to the ship, 
which he was enabled to find by means of flashes made from time to time 
by us, and reported that he did not arrive at the north point of Kahorough 
or Turtle's Nose, until near sundown, and that he could perceive no ves- 
sels in the bay ; but observed, at the same time, that the w'eather was hazy, 
and as the bay is about thirty-five miles from side to side, and .about the 
same depth, it was possible for vessels to have been there without his being 
able to observe them. 

The winds continued light and a-head, and the current strong against us. 



OF AMERICANS. 317 

and it was not till the afternoon of 23d that we were enabled to weather 
Narborough. On doubling the point of Narborough, our yards were com- 
pletely manned by seamen and officers, whose anxiety had talieii them aloft, 
all examining strictly every part of the bay, but could discover no vessels ; 
at length the cry of sail lio ! and shortly afterward anotlier, seemed to elec- 
trify every man ou board, and it seemed now as if all our hopes and expec- 
tations were to be realized ; but in a few minutes thnse illusory prospects 
vanished, and as sudden dejection, proceeding from disappointment, took 
place ; for the supposed sails proved to be only white appearances on the 
shore. Still, however, we did not despair. Lieutenant Downes was dis- 
patched to reconnoitcr, and returned to the ship at one o'clock in the morning ; 
and, to complete our disappointment, reported that he had seen no vessels. 

Early the next morning I took a boat and explored the basin which I 
found of surpassing beauty, with everything that could be desired to afford 
perfect security for a ship of the largest size. From the basin we proceeded 
to the watering place about half a mile distant. Ou the side of a rock at 
this place we found the names of several English and American ships cut, 
whose crews had been there ; and but a short distance from thence w'as 
erected a hut, built of loose stones, but destitute of a roof; and in the neigh- 
borhood of it were scattered in considerable quantities the bones and shells 
of land and sea tortoises. This I afterward understood was the work of a 
wretched English sailor, who had been landed there by his captain, destitute 
of everything, for having used some insulting language to him. Here ho 
existed near a year ou land tortoises and guanas, and his sole dependence 
for \vater was on the precarious supply he could get from the drippings of 
the rocks ; at length, finding that no one was likely to come to take him 
from thence, .and fearful of perishing for the want of water, he formed a 
determination to attempt at all hazards getting into Banks' Bay, where the 
ships cruise for whales, and with this view provided himself with two seal 
skins, with which, blown up, he formed a float ; and, after hazarding de- 
struction from the sharks, which frequcntl}' attacked liis vessel, and which 
he kept off with the stick that served him as a paddle, he succeeded at 
length in getting alongside an American ship early in the morning, where 
his unexpected arrival not only surprised but alarmed the crew ; for his ap- 
pearance was scarcely human ; clothed in the skins of seals, his countenance 
haggard, thin, and emaciated, his beard and hair long and matted, they sup- 
posed him a being from another world. The commander of the vessel 
where he arrived felt a great sympathy for his sufferings, and determined 
for the moment to bring to punishment the villain who had, by thus cruelly 
exposing the life of a fellow-being, violated every principle of humanity; 
but from some cause or other he was prevented from carr3'ing into effect his 
laudable intentions, and to this dpy the poor sailor has not had justice done 
him." 

The Essex continued p.assing from island to island, without meeting with 
anything, until her crew was aroused by the cheering cry of "sail ho!" on 
the morning of the 29th. A ship was made to the westward, and, soon 
after, two more a little further south. Chase was given to the first vessel, 
which was spoke under English colors, about nine A. M. She proved to be 
the British whale ship Montcznnia, with one thousand four hundred barrels 



31S ADVENTURES AND ACillEVEMEXTS 

of oil on board. Throwing a crew into the prize, the Essex next made s:dl 
after the two other ships, which liad tal:eu the alarm, and endeavored to 
escape. At eleven A. M., when the frigate was about eight inile^ from the 
two strangers, it fell calm, and the boats were hoisted out and sent against 
the enemj', under Mr. Downes, the first lieutenant. About two p. m., the 
party got within a mile of the nearest ship, when the two strangers, who 
were a quarter of a mile apart, hoisted English colors, and fired several guns. 
The boats now formed, and pulled for the largest ship, which kept training 
her guns on them as they approached, but struck without firing a shot, just 
as the boarders were closing. The second vessel imitated her example, 
when attacked in the same maimer. 

The prizes were the Georgiaua and the Policy, both whalers ; and the 
three ships, together, furnished the Essex with many important supplies. 
They had bread, beef, pork, cordage, water, and among other useful things, 
a great number of Galapagos tortoises." 

" Those extraordinary animals, the tortoises of the Galapagos, properly 
deserve the name of the elephant tortoise. Many of theru were of a size 
to weigh upward of three hundred weight ; and nothing, perhaps, can be 
more disagreeable or clumsy than they are in their external appearance. 
Their motion resembles strongly that of the elephant ; their steps slow, 
regular, and heavy ; they carry their body about a foot from the ground, and 
their legs and feet bear no slight resemblance to the anim.al to which I have 
likened them ; their neck is from eighteen inches to two feet in length, and 
very slender ; their head is jwoportioned to it, and strongly resembles that 
of a serpent ; but, hideous and disgusting as is their appearance, no animal 
can possibly afi"ord a more wholesome, luscious, and delicate food than they 
do; the finest green turtle is no more to be compared to them, in point of 
excellence, than the coarsest beef is to the finest veal ; and after once tast- 
ing the Galapagos tortoises, every other animal food fell greatly in our es- 
timation. These animals are so fat as to require neither butter nor lard to 
cook them, and this fat does not possess that cloying quality, common to 
that of most other animals ; and when tried out, it furnishes an oil superior 
in taste to that of the olive. The meat of this animal is the easiest of di- 
gestion, and a quantity of it, exceeding that of any other food, can be eaten 
without experiencing the slightest inconvenience. But what seems the most 
extraordinary in this animal, is the length of time that it can exist without 
food ; for I have been well assured, that they have been piled awaj' among 
the casks in the hold of a ship, where they have been kept eighteen months, 
and, when killed at the espitation of that time, were (bund to have suffered 
no diminution in fatness or excellence. They carry with them a constant 
supply of water, in a bag at the root of the neck, which contains about 
two gallons ; and on tasting that found in those we killed on board, it proved 
perfectly fresh and sweot. They are very restless when exposed to the light 
and heat of the sun, but will lie in the dark from one j'ear's end to the 
other without moving ; in the day-time, they .appear remarkably quick- 
sighted and timid, drawing their head into their shell on the slightest mo- 
tion of any object ; but they are entirely destitute of hearing, as tlie loudest 
noise, even the firing of a gun, does not seem to alarm them in the slightest 
degree, and at night, or in the dark, they appear perfectly blind. 



OF AMBrJCANS. 31 D 

The Goorgiana liad been built for the service of the English East India 
Company, and having the reputation of being a fast vessel, Captain Porter 
determined to equip her as a cruiser, with the double purpose of having an 
assistant in looking for the enemy, and possessing a consort to receive his 
own crew in the event of any accident occurring to the Essex. This ship 
was pierced for eighteen guns, and had six mounted when taken. The 
Policy was also pierced for the same number, and had ten guns mounted. 
The latter were now added to the armament of the Georgiana, which gave 
her sixteen light guns. All the small arms were collected from the prizes 
and put in her, her try-works were taken down, and other alterations made, 
when Mr. Downes was placed in command with a crew of forty-one men. 
By this arrangement, it was believed that the Georgiana would ba fully able 
to capture any of the English letters of marque, known to be cruising among 
the islands. In consequence of these changes, and the manning the two 
other prizes, notwithstanding several enlistments, the crew of the Essex was 
reduced to two hundred and sixty-four souls, officers included. On the 8th 
of May, the Georgiana sixteen, Lieutenant Commandant Downes, hoisted 
the American pennant, and fired a salute of seventeen guns. 

It being uncommonly fine weather. Captain Porter seized the opportunity 
of repairing his own ship, by means of the stores obtained from the enemy. 
The rigging was overhauled and tarred down, many new spiars were fitted, 
and the ship was painted in the middle of the Pacific, the onemj' furnishing 
the means." 

A few trials, i\s soon as the ships made sail, proved that the Georgiana 
could not hold way with the Essex, and that her reputation, as a fast vessel, 
was unmerited. Still, as she had been relieved from much of her lumber, 
she outsailed the other ships and hopes were entertained of her being made 
useful. Accordingly, on the 12th, she parted company, with orders to cruise 
against the enemy, and to rendezvous at dilferent places on the coast, as well 
as at various islands, in a regular succession as to time. The separation was 
not long, however, the Georgiana looking into Charles' Island, in quest of 
English vessels, at a moment when the Essex happened to be there on the 
same errand. 

The Georgiana was now sent to Albermarle Island, Captain Porter having 
reason to suppose that a particular ship of the enemy was in that quarter. 
The chaplain, having been allowed to make a short scientific excursion in 
boats, fell in with a strange sail on returning, and the Essex immediately 
went to sea in quest of her. But a cruise of several days was fruitless; 
and the ship continued passing among the islands, in the hope of falling in 
with something. An attempt to got across to the continent was defeated by 
the lightness of the winds and the strength of the westerly currents ; and 
on the 25th of May, the Essex was still in the neighborhood of Charles' 
Island. 

On the afternoon of the 2Sth, however, a sail was made ahead, and a 
general chase was given, the Policy, Montezuma, and Barclay being all in 
company. At sunset, the stranger was visible from the frigate's deck. By 
distributing the vessels in a proper manner, the chase was in sight next 
morning ; and after a good deal of maneuvering, the Essex got alongside of 
her, and captured the British whaler Atlantic, of three hundred and fifty- 



320 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

five tuus, twenty-four men, and eight eighteen-pound ctirronades. This 
ship, however, was pierced for twenty guns. 

Another strange sail had been made while in chase of the Atlantic, and 
she was pursued and overtaken in the course of the night. This ship was 
the Greenwich, of three hundred and thirty-eight tuns, ten guns, and twenty- 
five men. Both the Atlantic and Greenwich had letters of marque, and 
being fast ships, were extremely dangerous to the American trade in the 
Pacific. When the Essex took these vessels, every ofScer but the captain, 
the chaplain, captain's clerk, and boat-swain, were out of her, either in 
boats, or in prizes ; the first having been lowered in a calm to chase, and 
left to be picked up by the Montezuma, when a breeze struck the frigate." 

The captain of the Greenwich had taken a good stock of Dutch courage, 
and had made preparations to fire into the Essex, when a shot from the 
latter so intimidated him that he hove to and surrendered. The captain of 
the Atlantic was an American from Nantucket where he had a wife and 
family. " On his first coming on board the Essex, he expressed his extreme 
pleasure in finding as he supposed we were an English frigate in those seas. 
lie informed mc that ho had sailed from England under convoy to the Java 
frigate, and had put into Port Praya a few days after the Essex, an American 
frigate, had left there ; and that the Java had sailed immediately in pursuit 
of her, and that it was the general belief the Essex had gone around the 
Cape of Good Hope. He parted with the Java after crossing the line, and 
on his arrival at Conception heard she had been sunk ofl: Bahia by the 
American frigate Constitution. On inquiry respecting the American vessels 
in the South Seas, he informed me that about Conception was the best place 
to cruize for them, for he had left at that place nine of thsm in an unpro- 
tected and defenseless state, and entirely at a loss what to do with them- 
selves ; that they were almost daily arriving there, and that he had no doubt, 
by going off there, we should be enabled to take tlie most of them. I asked 
him how he reconciled it to himself to sail from England under the British 
flag, and in an armed shi}), after hostilities had taken place between the two 
countries. He said he found no difiSoulty in reconciling it to himself, for, 
nlthougli he was born in America, he was an Englishman at heart. This 
man appeared the jiolished gentleman in his manners, but evidently possessed 
a corrupt heart, and, like all other renagades, was desirous of doing his na- 
tive country all the injury in his power, with the hope of thereby ingratiating 
himself with his new friends. I permitted him to remain in his error some 
time, but at length introduced to him the captains of the Montezuma and 
the Georgiana, who soon undeceived him with resj^ect to our being an Eng- 
lish frigate. I had felt great pity for the last two gentlemen, and had made 
the evils of war bear as light on them as possible, by purchasing of them, 
for the use of the crew, their private adventures, consisting of slop-clothing, 
tobacco, and spirits, for which they were sincerely grateful ; but to this man 
I could not feel the same favorable disposition, nor could I conceal my in- 
dignation at his conduct : he endeavored to apologize away the impression 
his conduct had made, by artfully putting the case to myself; and, with 
a view of rendering him easy, as I did not wish to triumph over the 
wretch, I informed him that I was willing to make some allowances for his 
conduct. 



OF AMERICANS. 321 

After the capture of tlic Greenwich, I iiiformcLl her comnuxiiJer, John 
Shuttleworth, as well as Obediah Wier, of the AtUmtic, that I felt every 
iHsposition to act most generously toward them. Shuttleworth was however 
so much intoxicated, and his lan^juage so insulting, that it was with difficulty 
I could refrain from turning him out of m}' cabin. AVier was more reserved 
during my presence there ; but, duty requiring mo on deck, he, in the pre- 
sence of some of the ofiScers, used the most bitter invectives against the 
government of the United States ; and he, as well as Shuttleworth, con- 
soled themselves with the pleasing hope, that British frigates would soon 
bo sent to chastise us for our temerity in venturing so far from home. 

The next day I let them feel that they were dependent entirely on my 
generosity, which was greater than they either deserved or expected, and 
this haughty Englishman, who would wish to have terrified us with the 
name of a Briton, and this renegade, who would have sacrificed the interests 
of his country, were now so humbled by a sense of their own conduct, and 
of what they merited, that they would have licked the dust from my feet 
had it been required of them to do so. 

Our fleet now consisted of six sail of vessels, without including the 
Georgiana. On board of the last captured vessels I put a sufiScient numbei 
of men to fight their guns, giving lieutenant M'Knight charge of the At- 
lantic, and, for want of sea-officers, I put lieutenant Gamble of the marines 
in charge of the Greenwich. Volunteers continued to offer from the cap- 
tured vessels, and my whole effective force in those seas now consisted of 
the Essex, mounting forty-six gims, and two hundred and forty-five men ; 
Georgiana, sixteen guns, and forty-two men ; Atlantic, six guns, and twelve 
men ; Greenwich ten gun.":, and fourteen men ; Montezuma, two guns, and ten 
men ; Policy, ten men — making in all, eighty guns, and three hundred and 
thirty-three men ; together with one midshipman and six men on board the 
Barclay. My prisoners amounted in number to eighty ; but as I had di- 
vided them among the different ships, giving them full allowance of pro- 
visions, on condition of their giving their assistance in working, we found 
them as useful as our own men in navigating the prizes ; so that our whole 
number, including the prisoners, amounted to four hundred and twenty, and 
all in good health, with the exception of some of the prisoners, who wore 
slightly affected with the scurvy. 

It seems somewhat extraordinary, that British seamen should carr}' with 
them this propensity to desert even into merchant vessels, sailing under the 
flag of their nation, and under circumstances so terrifying ; but yet I am in- 
formed, that their desertion while at Charles' Island ha-s been very common, 
even when there was no prospect whatever of obtaining water but from the 
bowels of the tortoises. This can onlj' be attributed to that tyranny, so 
prevalent on board their ships-of-war, which has crept into their merchant 
vessels, and \a there aped by their commanders. Now, mark the diS'erence. 
While the Essex lay at Charles' Island, one-fourth of her crew was every 
day on shore, and all the prisoners who chose to go ; and I even lent the 
hitter boats, whenever they wished it, to go for their amusement to the 
other side of the island. No one attempted to desert, or to make their es- 
cape ; whenever a gnu was fired, every man repaired to the beach, and no 
one was ever missing when the :-ignal was made." 



322 ADVEXTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

Captain Porter now shaped Lis course for the mouth of the Tumbez DD 
the northeru coast of Chili where he anchored on the 19th of June. 

"As soon as they had got within two leagues, the leading vessel hove to 
and sent in a boat, on board of which was Mr. Downes. By this arrival an 
account of the movement of the Georgiana was obtained. 

While cruising near James' Island, Mr. Downes had captured the British 
whale ships, the Catharine, of two hundred and seventy tuns, eight guns and 
twenty-nine men, and the Rose, of two hundred and twenty tuns, eight guns, 
and twenty-one men. These two vessels were taken with no resistance, their 
masters having eomo on board the Georgiana, without suspecting her char- 
acter. After manning his prizes, Mr. Downes had but twenty men and boys 
left in the Georgiana, when he chased and closed with a third whaler, called 
the Hector, a ship of two hundred and seventy tuns, twenty-five men, and 
eleven guns, though pierced for twenty. At this time, Mr. Downes had also 
fifty prisoners, most of whom he was compelled to put in irons, before he 
brought the Hector to action. When within hail, the latter ship was ordered 
to haul down her colors, but refused, and the Georgiana opened a fire upon 
her. A sharp combat followed, when the Hector struck, with the loss of 
her main-topmaiit, having had most of her standing and running-rigging shot 
away. She had also two men killed, and six v/ounded. 

After manning the Hector, Mr. Downes had but ten men left in the Geor- 
giana ; and, including the wounded, he had seventy-three prisoners. The 
Rose being a dull ship, he threw overboard her guns, and most of her cargo, 
and parolling his prisonei-s, he gave her up to them, on condition that they 
should sail direct for St. Helena. As soon as this arrangement was made, he 
made sail for Tumbez, to join the Esses. 

The little fleet now amounted to nine sail, and there was an opportunity 
to make new arrangements. The Atlantic being nearly one hundred tuns 
larger than the (jreorgiana, as well as a much faster ship, besides possessing, 
in a greater degree, every material quality for a cruiser, Mr. Downes and his 
crew were transferred to her. Twenty guns were mounted in this new sloop- 
of-war ; she was named the Ussex Junior, and manned with sixty men. The 
Greenwich was also converted into a store-ship, and all the spare stores 
of the other vessels were sent on board her. She was also armed with 
twenty guns, though her crew was merely strong enough to work her." 

On first anchoring at Tumbez the governor came aboard to pay his re- 
spects. "Although their appearance was as wretched as can well be imag- 
ined, policy induced me to show them every attention ; and, to imjiress 
them with a belief of my friendly disposition and respect, I g.ave them a 
salute of nine guns on their coming on board ; and while they remained 
with me, which was until the next day, I paid every attention to them in 
my power, although their contemptible appearance, wliich frequentlj' excited 
the risibility of my crew, made me sometimes blush for my guests. They 
left me with assurances of the most friendly disposition on their part, and 
the most pressing invitation for me to go to Tumbez, which I promised to 
do in the course of a day or two. The nest day I visited the town or hamlet. 
It is situated about six miles from the river's mouth, on the left bank of the 
first vising ground you meet with ; from thence to the mouth of the river 
the land is all low, similar to that of the Mississippi, covered with rushes, 



OF AMERICANS. 323 

reeds, aiiJ maiigruves, and here and llierc, on the most elevated parts, arc to 
be found the huts where the natives liave settled themselves, for the purposo 
of cultivating the soil, which produces, in great abundance, cocoa, corn, 
jilantains, melons, oranges, pumpkins, sugar-cane, sweet jjotatoos, etc. 
Their houses are formed of reeds, covered with rushes, open at all sides, and 
having the floor elevated about four feet from the earth, to protect them 
from the alligators, which are here numerous and of enormous size. One of 
them fifteen feet in length, and of the most hideous appearance, I killed 
with a musket ball. 

The inhabitants of Tumbcz gave me the most friendly reception, every 
wdierc invited me into their huts, where hogs, dogs, fowls, jackasses, men, 
women, and children, were grouped together, and from whence, in a few 
minutes, 1 was always glad to make my escape, from the innumerable swarms 
of fleas with which they were infested ; and the house of the governor was 
no more exempt from this plague than those of the plebeians, of which 
liis wife and naked children bore innumerable testimonies, in the large red 
blotches on their necl^ and bodies. The men of this place seem to be of tlie 
lowest class of those who call themselves civilized ; and the women, although 
of fine forms, animated, cheerful, and handsome countenances, are destitute 
of all that delicacy, the possession of which only can render the female 
lovely in our eyes." 

"On the 30th, the fleet sailed, the Essex and Essex Junior keeping in 
company, with all tlie carpenters at work at the latter. On the -ith of July, 
a general salute was fired, principally with the guns and ammunition of the 
eheioy. On the 9th, the Essex Junior parted company, bound to Val))araiso, 
with the Hector, Catharine, PoUcy, and Montezuma, prizes, and the Barclay, 
recaptured ship, under convoy. 

As soon as out of sight of the other ships, the Essex, Greenwich and 
Georgiana steered to the westward, with an intention of going among the 
Galapagos. On the 13th, three .sail were made off Banks' Bay, all on a wind, 
and a good deal separated. The Essex gave chase to the one in the center, 
which led her down to leeward, leaving the Greenwich and Georgiana a long 
distance astern and to wijidward. While the frigate was thus separated from 
her prizes, one of the strangers tacked, and endeavored to cut the latter off, 
but the Greenwich hove-to, got a portion of. the people out of the Georgiana, 
imd bore down boldly on her adversary ; while the Essex continued after 
the vessel she was chasing, which she soon captured. The ship was tlie 
English whaler Charlton, of two hundred and seventy-four tuns, ten guns, 
and twenty-one men. Throwing a crew into her, the frigate immediately 
hauled her wind. 

It Wiis now ascertained from the prisoners, that the largest of the strange 
ships was the Seringapatam, of three hundred and fil'ty-seven tuns, fourteen 
guns, and near forty men ; and the smallest, the New Zealander, of two 
hundred and fifty-nine tuns, eight guns, and twenty-three men. The Ser- 
ingapatam had been built fur a cruiser, and she was probably the most dan- 
gerous vessel to the American trade to the westward of Cape Horn. Captain 
Porter ielt a corresponding desire to get possession of her, and was much 
gratified with the bold manner in which the Greenwich had borne down on 
her. This ship was under the command of a very young officer, but he had 
:il 



32i ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

the advice of one of tbe sea-lieutenants, who was under suspension, and who 
behaved with groat gallantry and spirit on this occasion. Closing with the 
Seringapatam, the Essex being a long distance to leeward, the Greenwich 
brought her to action, and after a few broad-sides, the English ship struck. 
Soon after, however, and before possession could be taken, she made an at- 
tempt to escape by passing to windward, in which she was frustrated by the 
perseverance of the Greenwich, which vessel kept close on the enemy's 
quarter, maintaining a spirited fire, for the number of men on board. As 
the Esses was coming up fast, the Seringapatam finally gave up the attempt, 
and running down to the frigate, again submitted. 

In tliis affair, as in that of the boats, and in the capture of the Hector by 
the Georgiana, the officers and men engaged merited high encomiums for 
their intrepidity and coolness. The Greenwich, after obtaining the hands 
from the Georgiana, did not probably muster five-and-twenty men at quarters 
and the Seringapatam was much the better ship. The New Zealander was 
taken without any difiSculty. 

The Seringapatam had made one prize, her master having turned his at- 
tention more to cruising than to whaling. On inquiry, notwithstanding, it 
was found that he had adopted this course in anticipation of a commission, 
having actually sailed without one. When this fact was ascertained. Cap- 
tain Porter put the muster in irons, and he subsequently sent him to America 
to be tried. Finding himself embarrassed with his prisoners. Captain Porter 
gave them up the Charlton, and suffered them to jiroceed to Rio de Janeiro, 
under their parole, lie then took the guns out of the New Zealander, and 
mounted them in the Seringapatam, by which means he gave the latter ship 
an armament of twenty-two guns, though, as in the case of the Greenwich, 
her people were barely sufficient to work her. 

On the 25th of July, the Georgiana was dispatched to the United States, 
with a full cargo of oil. In making up a crew for her, an opportunity was 
found of sounding the feelings of the men whose times were nearly expired, 
and it was ascertained that few wished to profit by the circumstance. As 
soon as the vessels separated, the Essex, with the Greenwich, Seringapatam, 
and New Zealander in company, shaped her course for Albermarle Island. 
On the morning of the 28th, another strange sail was diocovered ; but as 
she had a fresh breeze, and the frigate was becalmed, she was soon out of 
sight. When the wind came, however, the Essex ran in a direction to in- 
tercept the stranger ; and the next morning he was again seen, from the 
mast-head, standing across the Essex's bow, on a bowline. As the wind 
was light, recourse was now had to the drags, and the ship got within four 
miles of the chase, which was evidently an enemy's whaler. The stranger 
becoming alarmed, got his boats ahead to tow, when Captain Porter sent a 
gig and whale-boat, with a few good marksmen in them, under Acting Lieu- 
tenaut M'Knight, with orders to take a position ahead of the chase, and to 
drive in her boats, but on no account to attempt to board. This duty was 
handsomely executed, though the boats had great difficulty in maintaining 
their position within muskct-shot, as the enemy got two guns on the fore- 
castle, and kept up a warm discharge of grape. 

At 4 P. M., the ships were little more than a league apart, perfectly be- 
calmed, and Captain Porter ordered the boats into the water, to carry the 



OF AMERICANS. 325 

stranger by boarding. As the party drew near, the enemy commenced firing, 
but intimidated by their ste.idy and orderly approach, he soon lowered his 
ensign. The boats were about to take possession, when a breeze from the 
eastward suddenly striking the English ship, she hauled up close on a wind, 
hoisted her colors again, fired at the gig and whale-boat as she passed quite 
near them, and went off, at a rapid rate, to the northward. The party at- 
tempted to follow, but it was sunset before the Essex got the wind, and, dis- 
liking to leave her boats out in the darkness, she was compelled to heave to, 
at nine, in order to hoist them in. The next morning the chase was out of 
sight. 

This was the first instance, since her arrival in the Pacific, in which the 
Essex had failed in getting alongside of a chase that she did not voluntarily 
abandon. It produced much mortification, though the escape of the enemy 
was owing to one of those occurrences, so common in summer, that leave 
one shij] without a breath of air, while another, quite near her, has a good 
breeze. 

On the 4th of August, the ships went into James' Island and anchored. 
Here Captain Porter made the important discovery that a large portion of 
his powder had been damaged in doubling Cape Horn. Fortunately, the 
.Seringapatam could supply the deficienc}% though, in doing so, that ship was 
rendered nearly defenseless." 

On this island Captain Porter lost a most promising young ofliccr by a dis- 
graceful practice. Without his knowledge two of his officers mot on shore 
at daylight to engage in a duel and at the third fire Mr. Cowan fell dead. 
His remains were huried the same day in the spot where he fell, and the 
following inscription was placed over his tomb : 

Sacred to the memory 

OF LIEUT. JOHN S. COWAN, 

Of the U. S. Frigate Essex, 

Who died here anno 1813, 

Aged 21 years. 

His loss is ever to be regretted 

By his country ; 

And mourned by his friends 

And brother officers. 

"On the morning of the 20th August, got under way; but, prior to my 
leaving the place, I buried a letter for Lieutenant Downes, in a bottle at the 
head of Mr. Cowan's grave, and a duplicate of the same at the foot of a 
finger-post, erected by me, for the purpose of pointing out to such as may 
hereafter visit the island the grave of Mr. Cowan,; and, with a design of 
misleading the enemy, I left in a bottle suspended at the finger-post, the 
following note : 

The United States frigate Essex arrived here on the 21st July, 1813, her 
crew much afllicled with the scurvy and ship-fever, which attacked them 
suddenly, out of which she lost the first lieutenant, surgeon, sailing-master 
two midshipmen, gunner, carpenter, and thirty-six seamen and marines. 



32G ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Slie captured in this sea the follo'viiig British ships, to-wit : Montezuma, 
PoHcy, Atlantic, Catharine, Rose, Hector, Charlton, Georgiana, Greenwich, 
Seringapatam, and New Zealander; but, for want of ofiScers and men to man 
them, the four last were burnt ; the Rose and Charlton were given np to the 
prisoners. 

The Essex leaves this in a leaky state, her foremast very rotten in the 
partners, and her mainmast sprung. Her crew have, however, received great 
benefit from the tortoises and other refreshments which the island affords. 
Should any American vessel, or indeed a vessel of any nation, put in here, 
and meet with this note, they would be doing an act of great humanity 
to transmit a copy of it to America, in order that our friends may know of 
our distressed and hopeless situation, and be prepared for worse tidings, if 
they should ever again hear from us," etc. 

Two days later, the vessels reached Banks' Bay, where the prizes were 
moored and the Essex sailed in a short cruise alone on the 24th. 

"After passing among the islands, without meeting anything, a sail was 
discovered on the morning of 15th of September, apparently lying to, a long 
distance to the southward and to windward. The Essex was immediately 
disguised, by sending down some of the light yards, and the ship kept 
turning to windward, under easy sail. At meridian, the vessels were so near 
each other, that the stranger was ascertained to be a whaler, in the act of 
cutting in. He was evidently drifting down fast on the frigate. At 1 p. m. 
when the ships were about four miles apart, the stranger cast off from the 
whales, and made all sail to windward. As it was now evident that he had 
taken the alarm, the Essex threw aside all attempts at disguise, and pursued 
him, under everything that would draw. Bj' 4 p. M. the frigate had the 
stranger within reach of her guns, and a few shot well thrown, brought him 
down under her lee. This ship was the Sir Andrew Hammond, of three 
hundred and one tuns, twelve guns, and thirty-one men ; and she proved to 
be the vessel that had escaped, in the manner previously related. Fortu- 
nately, the prize had a large supply of excellent beef, pork, bread, wood, 
and water, and the Esses got out of her an ample stock of those great 
necessaries. On returning to Banks' Bay with her prize, the ship shortly 
after was joined by the Essex Junior, on her return from Valparaiso. By 
this arrival. Captain Porter discovered that several enemy's vessels of force 
had sailed in pursuit of him ; and having by this time captured nearly all 
the English whalers of which he could obtain intelligence, ho determined 
to proceed to the Marquesas, in order to refit, and to make his preparations 
for returning to America. He was urged to adopt this resolution, also, by 
understanding from Mr. Downes, that the government of Chili no longer 
preserved the appearance of amity toward the United States, but was getting 
to be EngUsh in its predilections." 

In summing up the important services rendered by tlie Essex in coming 
into the Pacific, Captain Porter says : " In the first place, by our captures, 
we have completely broken up that important branch of British navigation, 
the whale-fishery of the coast of Chili and Peru, as we ha'-e captured all 
their vessels engaged in that pursuit except the aforesaid ship Comet. By 
these captures we have deprived the enemy of jiroperly to the amount of 
two f.nd a half millions of dollars, and of the services of three hundred 



OF AMERIUANri. 327 

and sixty so;imeu tliat I liberated on parole, not to serve againft tlic United 
States until regularly exchanged. We have effectually jjrevented them 
from doing any injury to our own whale-ships, only two of which have 
been captured, and their captures took place before our arrival. Shortly 
at'ter my appearanr;e in those seas, our whale-ships, which had taken refuge 
at Conception and Valparaiso, boldly ventured to sea in pursuit of whales, 
and on the arrival of the Essex Junior at Valparaiso, four of them had returned 
there with full cargoes. 'I'he expense also of cnij^loying the frigate Phoebe, 
the sloops of war Raccoon and Cherub, and their store-ship', should also bo 
taken into the estimate of the injury we have done them ; for it is evident 
that they would not have been sent into the Pacific had it not been for the 
apjjearance of the Essex there, as for many years past they have employed 
no ships of war in this part of the world, nor were those sent until they had 
heard of our arrival at Valparaiso. 

It appears by my estimate, that the balance against the British, occasioned 
by our coming into this sea, is five million one hundred and seventy 
dollars ; for there cannot be a doubt that all our whale-ships would have 
been captured, had we not effectually prevented it by the capture of all of 
theirs. 

We have also taken ten prize-ships. Those now in company are as follows : 
Essex Junior, twenty guns ; Greenwich, twenty guns ; Seringapatam, twenty- 
two guns ; New Zealander, ten guns ; and Sir Andrew Hammond, ten guns. 
We have dispatched two ships for America to-wit : Georgiana and Policyi 
and have three, the Montezuma, Catharine, and Hector safely moored under 
the batteries of Valpru'aiso. All these vessels are copper sheeted and fa.st- 
ened and in a state to proceed to the most distant part of the world, some 
of the remarkably fast sailors and all superior ships." 

On the 2ith of October they discovered the island of Rooahooga, one of 
the Washington group of the Marquesas Islands. This group consists of three 
Islands, viz : Rooahooga, or Jefferson Island ; Rooapooah, or Adams' Island, 
and NoViVheevah, or Madison Island. 

"Its aspect, on first making it, was little better than the barren and des- 
olate islands we had been so long among ; but on our nearer approach 
the fertile valleys, whose beauties were heightened by the pleasant streams 
and clusters of houses, and intervened by groups of the natives on the hills 
inviting us to land, produced a contrast much to the advantage of the islands 
we were now about visiting — indeed the extreme fertility of the soil, as it 
appeared to iis after rounding the southeast point of the island, piroduced 
sensations we had been little accustomed to, and made us long for the fruits 
with which the trees appeared everywhere loaded. 

On rcmding the southeast par' of tho island w, saw a canoe coming off to 
the ship with cightof the natives, one of wliom was seated in the bow with his 
head ornamented with some yellow leaves, which at a distance we supposed 
to be feathers. They approached us very cautiously, and would not venture 
alongside ui.til w; had run vvij o\o^a in. Wo had <t na-'.ve oT the islauw 
of Otaheite on board, who enabled them, but with apparent difficulty, to 
comprehend our wishes, and who gave them repeated assurances of our 
friendly disposition. They frequently repeated to us the word iaija, which 
signifies friend, and invited us to the shore. Their bodies were entirely 



32 S ADVEXTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

nnked, and their chief oniameiit consisted in the dark and fanciful lines 
formed by tattooing, which covered them. On their leaving us I bore 
away for several other canoes which were lanched from the different coves 
with which the coast was indented, but nothing could induce them to come 
near the ship. I was .inxious to procure some refreshments, but more so to 
obtain a knowledge of a people with whom the world is so little acquainted. 
One of the canoes displayed a white flag : I caused a similar emblem of 
peace to be exhibited, and after waiting some time, perceiving that they wore 
fearful of coming alongside, I caused two boats to be manned and armed, 
and proceeded toward them. I soon approached them, and directed the 
Otaheitan to inform them that we were friendly disposed, and were williuf; 
to jjurchase of them the articles they had to sell, which consisted of hogs, 
plantains, bread-fruit, cocoa-nuts, etc., and through the same medium 
informed them that I should proceed to the shore, and there remain as a 
hostage for their safety. Some of them went off to the ship, but the greater 
number followed me to the shore, where they were collected in groups, armed 
with their spears and war-clubs, to receive me, and collecting in considerable 
numbers from every quarter. I went close in with my boat, where I made 
an exchange of pieces of iron hoops and other articles for their ornaments 
and fruits. In a few minutes the spears and war-clubs were laid aside, 
and swarms of natives swam off to me loaded with the produce of the is- 
land : all seemed greatly to rejoice that we had so prorious an article to 
offer them as pieces of old iron hoops, which were held in such high esti- 
mation that good sized pigs were purchased for a few inches. Some, to ex- 
press their joy, were seen dancing on the beach with the most extravagant 
gestures, while others expressed the pleasure they felt by shouting and 
clapping their hands. But notwithstanding this friendly intercourse, it was 
very evident that they had strong suspicions of us. They always approached 
the boat with the greatest awe and agitation, and in every instance, where 
articles were presented to them, they shrunk back with terror, and retreated 
to the shore with the utmost precipitation. One among them, however, ven- 
tured to raise himself by the side of the boat, and perceiving a pistol lying 
in the steru sheets, showed an evident desire to possess it. It was with 
some difficulty I could make him let go his hold of the boat ; and to inti- 
midate him I jiresented the pistol at him ; but it produced no other effect 
than joy, as he immediatel}' held out both his hands to receive it, from 
which I concluded that they were unacquainted with the use of fire-arms. 

After leaving these friendly people I proceeded lor the frigate, where I 
found the traffic with the canoes that had gone off, had been conducted with 
much harmony. Some of them I passed very close to on their return, and 
the natives on board them expressed their extreme satisfaction by expres- 
sions of the most extravagant joy. One of them in the fullness of heart, 
said he was so glad he longed to get on shore to dance. On rejoining the 
ship, I was informed by the officers that the natives who had been on board 
had expressed much surprise at the sight of the goats, sheep, dogs, and 
other animals, but what seemed most to astonish them, was one of the large 
Galapagos tortoises : it seemed as though they could not sufficiently feast 
their eyes on it ; and to view it more at their ease they stretched themselvert 
at full length on the deck around it ; and this appeared to be their genera) 



OF AMERICANS. 329 

practice whoa tlicy wished to view leisurely any object tliat excited their 
attention, a practice which seems to bespeak the uutural indolence of this 
people. 

Tlie men of this island are remarkably handsome ; of large stature and 
well jjroportioned : they possess every variety of countenance and feature, 
and a gi'eat difference is observable in the color of the skin, which for the 
most part is that of a copper color : but some are as fair as the generality of 
working people much exposed to the sun of a warm climate. The old nien 
(but particularly the chiefs) are entirely black ; but this is owing entirely to 
the practice of tattooing with which they are covered all over, and it re- 
quires a close inspection to perceive that the blackness of their skin is owing 
to this cause; and when the eye is once familiarized with men ornamented 
after this manner, we perceive a richness in the skin of an old man highly 
tattooed comparable to that which we perceive iu a highly' wrought piece of 
old mahogany : for, on a minute examination, may be discovered innumer- 
able lines curved, straight, and irregular, drawn with the utmost correctness, 
taste and symmetry, and yet aj^parently without order or any determined 
plan. The young men, the fairness of whose skin is contrasted by- the or- 
naments of tattooing, certainly have, at first sight, a more handsome appear- 
ance than those entirely covered with it; and in a short time we are induced 
to think that tattooing is as necessary an ornament for a native of those is- 
lands as clothing is for a European. The neatness and beauty with which 
this species of ornament is finished, served greatly to surprize us, and we 
could not help believing that they had among them tattooers by profession, 
some of them no doubt, equal in celebrity to M'Alpin and other renowned 
tailors of America, for we afterward discovered that the most wealthy and high 
class was more fully and handsomely tattooed than those of an inferior 
station, which is a sufficient evidence that tattooing has its price. 

The young girls, which we had an opjiortunity of seeing, were as I before 
observed, handsome and well formed ; their skins were remarkably soft and 
smooth, and their complexions no darker than man}- brunettes in America 
celebrated for their beauty. Their modesty was more evident than that of 
the women of any place we have visited since leaving our own couidry. 
Nakedness they cannot consider offensive to modesty ; they are accustomed 
to it from their infancy. I find no difiiculty in believing, that an American 
lady, who exposes to view her face, her bosom, and her arms, is as modest 
and virtuous as the wife of a Turk, who is seen only by her husband ; or 
that a female of Washington's Group, who is seen in a state of nature, ma3- 
be as modest and virtuous as either. That they have a high sense of shame 
and pride, I had afterward many opportunities of observing." 

At daylight next morning they bore up for Noaheevah or Madison's Is- 
land, where they put into a beautiful bay and came to an anchor. This 
harbor was named by Captain Porter, Massachusetts Bay. Here he was 
soon joined by the Esses Junior, which vessel had parted company to 
cruise, when he believed himself sufficiontlj secure to commence a regular 
overhauling of the ships. 

Cooper, in his Naval History, says, "the situation of the E>sex was sufB- 
ciently remarkable, at this moment, to merit a brief notice. She had bee(i 
the first American to cany the pennant of a man-of-war round the Cape of 



330 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMEXTS 

Good Hope, and now she had been the first to bring it into this distant ocean. 
More than ten thousand miles from home, withoat colonies, stations, or even 
a really friendly port to repair to, short of stores, without a consort, and 
otherwise in possession of none of the required means of subsistence and 
efficiency, she had boldly steered into this distant region, where she had 
found all that she required, through her own activity and having swept 
the seas of her enemies, she had now retired to those little-frequented islands 
to refit, with the security of a ship at home. It is due to the officer, who 
so promptly adopted, and so successfully executed this plan, to add, that 
his enterprize, self-reliance and skill, indicated a man of bold and masculine 
conception, of great resources, and of a high degree of moral courage ; qual- 
ities that are indispensable in forming a naval captain." 

When the Essex stood into the land a boat come off from the shore with 
three white men in her, one of whom to Captain Porter's great astonishment 
proved to be John M. Maury an American midshipman, who had left the 
United States on furlough in a merchant ship. He had been left here by 
the master of the vessel to gather sandal wood while the ship was gone to 
China. As it was suppiosed the war would j)revent the return of the ship, 
Mr. Maury and his party were received on board the frigate. Wilson, one of 
them, was an Englishman by birth. He had been many years in these is- 
lands and with the exception of a cloth around his loins was completely 
naked. His body was all over tattooed and in every respect except color he 
had become an Indian. He assisted Captain Porter as interpreter, and with- 
out his aid he would have succeeded badly on the island. 

Captain Porter landed with a party of marines and sailors. "The drum 
appeared to give them much pleasure ; and the regular movements of the 
marines occasioned much astonishment. They said they were spirits or be- 
ings of a class different from other men. I directed them to be put through 
their exercise; and the firing of the muskets occasioned but little terror, 
except among the women, who generall}' turned aw'ay their faces and covei'ed 
their ears with their hands. The men and boys were all attention to the 
skipping of the balls in the water ; but at every fire all habitually inclined 
their bodies, as if to avoid the shot, although behind the men who were 
firing. After remaining a short time with them, I distributed among them 
soine knives, fish-hooks, etc., which the_v received with much apparent plea- 
sure ; but no one offered, like the natives of the other island, anything in 
return. 

Observing the mountains surrounding the valleys to be covered with nu- 
merous groups of natives, I inquired the cause, and was informed that a 
warlike tribe residing beyond the mountains had been for several weeks at 
war with the natives of the valley, into which they had made several in- 
cursions, and had destroyed many houses and plantation;!, and had killed, 
by cutting around the bark, a great number of bread-fruit trees. 

I inquired if it were possible to get a message to them ; and was informed 
that notwithstanding they were at war ana showed no quarter to eacn otUer, 
there were-certain persons of both tribes, who were permitted to pass and 
repass freely and uninterrupted from one tribe to another : such for examijlo 
as a man belonging to one tribe who had married a woman belonging to the 
other. I inquired if any such were present; and one being pointed out to 



OF AMERICAN'S. 331 

nie, I directed Lim to proceed to the Happalis and to tell tliem tluit I had 
come with a force sufficiently strong to drive them from the island : and if 
they presumed to enter into the valley while I remained there, I should 
send a body of men to chastise them ; to tell them to cease all hostilities so 
long as T remained among them ; that if they had hogs or fruit to dispose 
of, they might come and trade freely with us, as I shonld not permit the 
natives of the valley to injure or molest them. To the natives of the 
valley — who listened attentively and with apparent pleasure to the message 
sent to the Ilappahs — I then addressed myself, and assured them that I had 
come with the most friendly disposition ; that I wanted nothing from them 
but what I paid for : that they must look on us as brethren : and that I 
should protect them against the Happahs should they again vcntnre to de- 
scend from the mountains. I directed them to leave at home their sjiears, 
slings, and clubs — their only weapons of war — in order that we might know 
them from the Ilappahs ; and told them that I should consider all as my 
enemies who should appear armed in my presence. All listened with much 
attention : their si:)ears and clubs were thrown on one side. My attention 
was soon drawn to an object, which at the moment had presented itself. A 
handsome young woman, of about eighteen years of age, her coniplexion 
fairer than common, her carriage majestic, and her dress better and some- 
what different from the other females, approached. Her glossy black hair, 
and her skin were highly anointed with the cocoa-nut oil, and her whole 
jierson and appearance neat, sleek, and comely ; on inquir\- who this digni- 
fied personage might be, I was informed that her name was Pileenee, a grand- 
daughter to the chief, or greatest man in the valley, whose name was Gatta- 
newa. This lady, on whose countenance was not to be perceived any of 
those playful smiles which enliven the countenances cf the others, 1 was in- 
formed was held in great estimation, on account of her rank and beauty, and 
1 lelt that it would be necessary, from motives of policy, to pay some atten- 
tions to a personage so exalted. She received my advances with a coldness 
and hauteur which would have suited a princess, and repelled everything 
like familiarity with a sternness that astonished me. 

Gattanewa, the chief of the Tayehs, the tribe who inhalrited this valley 
I was informed at the time of my landing, was at a fortified village, which 
was pointed out to me, on the top of one of the highest mountains. The 
manner of fortifying those places, is to plant closely on eml, the bodies of 
large trees, of forty feet in length, and securing them together by pieces of 
timber strongly lashed across, presenting on thy brow of a hill, difficult of 
access, a breast-work of considerable extent, which woald riqnirj Envopoa.i 
artillery to destroy. At the back of this a scaffolding is raised, on wliich is 
placed a platform for the warriors, who ascend by the means of ladders, and 
thence shower down on their assailants spears and stones. 

When the ship was moored, the shore was lined with the natives of both 
sexes; but the females were most numerous, waving their white cloaks or 
canoes for us to come un siiore. The boaio weio got out, and p^ocee^'ed i^ 
the shore, where on landing, they were taken complete possession of by the 
women, who insisted on going to the ship, and in a short time she was com- 
pletely filled by them, of all ages and descriptions, from the ago of sixty 
years to that of ten ; some as remarkable for their beauty, as others for their 



332 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

ugliness. The ship was a perfect Bedlam from the time of their arrival 
until their departure, which was not until morning, when they were put on 
shore, not only with whatever was given them, but with whatever they 
could lay their hands on. 

The object of the greatest value at this as well as all the other islands of 
this group, is whales' teeth. No jewel, however valuable, is half so much 
esteemed in Europe or America, as is a whale's tooth here : I have seen 
them by fits laugh and cry for joy, at the possession of one of these darling 
treasures. Some idea may be formed of the value in which they are held 
by the natives, when it is known that a ship of three hundred tuns burden 
may be loaded with sandal-wood at this island, and the only object of trade 
necessary to procure it, is ten whales' teeth of a large size ; and for these the 
natives will cut it, bring it from the distant mountains, and take it on board 
the ship ; and this cargo in China, would be worth near a million of dollars. 
I have seen this sandal-wood, that is so highly esteemed by the Chinese ; — 
indeed their infatuation for it, falls little short of that of the natives for 
whales' teeth — it does not appear capable of receiving a high polisli, nor is 
its color agreeable; the odor arising from it is pleasant, and the principal 
uses to which the Chinese are said to apply it, is to burn it in their temples, 
and to extract from it an oil, which is said to be of great value."' 

In a short time Gattanewa, the chief, came on board of the Esses. Most 
of the warriors they had seen were highly ornamented with iiluraes and 
■were attired in all the gew-gaws of savage splendor. They geuerall}' carried 
a black and highly polished spear or a club richly carved and their bodies 
were elegantly tattooed. " What was my astonishment then," says Porter, 
"when Gattanewa presented himself; an infirm old man of seventy years 
of age, destitute of every covering or ornament except a clout about his 
loins, and a piece of palm leaf tied about his head : a long stick seemed to 
assist him in walking ; his face and body were as black as a negro's, from 
the quantity of tattooing, which entirely covered them, and his skin was 
rough, and appeared to be peeling off in scales, from the quantity of kava 
(an intoxicating root) with which he had indulged himself. Such was the 
figure that Gattanewa presented ; and as he had drank freely of the kava 
before he made his visit, he appeared to be perfectly stupid. After he had 
been a short time on deck, I endeavored to impress him with a high opinion 
of our force ; and for this purpose assembled all my crew : it scarcely seemed 
to excite his attention. I then caused a gun to be fired, which seemed to 
jsroduce no other efi'ect on him, than that of pain; he complained that it 
hurt his ears; I then invited him below, where nothing whatever excited 
hi.s attentions, until I showed him some whales' teeth : this roused the old 
man from his lethargy, and he would not be satisfied, until I had permitted 
him to handle, to measure and count them over and over, which seemed to 
afford him infinite pleasure. After he had done this repeatedly, I put them 
away ; and shortly afterward asked him if ho had seen anything in the 
ship that pleased him ; if he did to name it and it should be his : he told 
me he had seen nothing which had pleased him so much as one of the small 
whales' teeth ; which on his describing, I took out and gave to him : this he 
carefully wrapped up in one of the turns of his clout ; begtcing me not to 
inform any person that he had about him an article of so much value : I 



OF AMERICANS. 333 

assured him I should not ; and the old man threw himself on the settee and 
went to sleep. In a few minutes he awoke, so.aewhat recovered from his 
stuiiidity, and requested to be put on shore : he, however, previous to his 
departure, wished me to exchange names with him, and requested me to 
assist him in his war with the Happahs : to the first I immediately consented. 
He told me they had cursed the bones of his mother, who had died but a 
short time since : that as we had exchanged names, she was now my mother, 
and I was bound to espouse her cause. I told him I would think of the 
subject, and did not think it necessary to make any farther reply to the old 
man's sophistry. 

Captain Porter now unbent the sails of the Kssex and sent thorn on shore ; 
landed his water casks with which he formed a complete iuolosure : the ship 
was hauled close within the beach and they began to make their repairs. A 
tent was erected and the whole placed under a guard of marines. In tha 
meanwhile the Happahs descended in a large body into the valley and dis- 
troyed an immense number of the bread-fruit trees. They sent word that 
inasmuch as the Americans had not opposed them they believed they were 
cowards and that they should visit their camp and carry off their sails. 
Before proceeding to extremities. Captain Porter thought he could try and 
frighten them out of their hostile notions. As Gattenewa made daily ap- 
plications for assistance, Captain Porter at length told him that if his people 
would carry a heavy gun, a six pounder up to the top of a high mountain 
which he pointed out to him he would send men up to work it and drive 
away the Happahs who still kept possession of the surrounding hills. This 
was unanimously agreed to by every man in the valley. On the gun being 
landed he caused a few shot to be fired over the water first with ball and 
then with grape shot, which last particularly so delighted tliose simple folks 
that they hugged and kissed the gun and laid down beside it and caressed it 
with the utmost fondness. 

"While the natives were employed with their darling gun, I occupied my- 
self in forwarding as much as possible the ship's duty. Xo worlc was ex- 
acted from anj' person after four o'clock in the afternoon ; the rest of the 
day was given to repose and amusement. One fourth of the crew being 
allowed after that hour to go on shore, there to remain until daylight next 
morning. Everything went on as well as I could have wished, and much 
better than I ccmld possibly have expected. The day after the guu was 
moved for the mountains, the chief warrior of the Tayehs named Mouina, 
was introiljocd to me. He wai a tall, we'! shaped m;in of about thirty-fl/i 
years of age, remarkably active, of an intelligent and open counteiiance, and 
his whole appearance was prepossessing. He had just left the other warriors 
in the fortified village, and had come down to request me to cause a musket 
to be fired — which he called a bouJii — that he might witness its efleots. 
Several individuals of the tribe of the Happahs were at that moment about 
the camp, and I was pleaspd at the opportunity which was afforded me to 
convince them of the folly of resisting our fire-arms with slings and spears. 
I fired several times myself at a mark to show them that I never failed of 
hitting an object the size of a man. I then directed the marines to fire by 
volleys at a cask, which was soon like a riddle. 

Mouina appeared much pleased with the effect of our musketry ; and 



331 ADVENT UllES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

frequently exclaimed, mallee, mattee ! killed, killed ! The Happahs, who 
were present however, replied that nothing could persuade their tribe, that 
houhies could do them the injury that we pretended : that they were de- 
termined to try the effects of a battle, and if they should be beaten, that 
they would be willing to make peace ; but not before. I informed them 
that they would not find me so ready to make peace after beating them, as 
at present; and that 1 should insist on being paid for the trouble tliey might 
put me to. Seeing that these strange people were resolutely bent on tryiiig 
the effect of their arms against our.s, I thought that the sooner they were con- 
vinced of their folly the better. Indeed it became absolutely necessary to do 
something; for the Ilappahs present informed me that their tribe believed 
that we were afraid to attack them, as we had threatened so much, without 
attempting anything; and this idea, I found, began to prevail among those 
of our vallej', which is called the valley of Tieultoi/, and the people Hav- 
ouhs, Parques, Hoattas, etc., fur the valley is subdivided into other valleys 
by the hills, and each small valley is inhabited by distinct tribes, governed 
by their own laws, and having their own chiefs and priests. 

On the 2Sth October, Gattanewa, with several of the warriors, came to in- 
form me that the gun was at tlio foot of the mountain, where I had directed 
it to be carried, and that it would have reached the summit by the time our 
people could get up there. I informed them that, on the next morning at 
daylight, forty men, with their muskets, would be on shore and in readiness 
to march ; and as I supposed it would be impossible for our people to scale 
the mouutains, when incumbered with their arms, I desired them to send 
me forty ludians for the purpose of carrying their muskets, and an equal 
number to carry provisions as well as ammunition for the six pounder, which 
they promised me should be done, and every arrangement was made accord- 
ingly, and the command of the expedition given to Lieutenant Downes. 

On the morning of the 29th the party being on shore, consisting chiefly 
of the crew of the Essex Junior and the detachment of marines, each man 
behi" furnished with an Indian to carry his arms, and spare Indians to carry 
provisions and other articles, I gave the order to march. About eleven 
o'clock I perceived that our people had gained the mountains and were driving 
the Ilappahs from height to height, who fought as they retreated, and daring 
our men to follow them with threatening gesticulations. A native, who bore 
the American flag, waved it in triumph as he skipped along the moun- 
tains — they were attended by a large concourse of friendly natives, anned 
as usual, who generally kept in the rear of our men. Mouiua alone wfis 
seen in the advance of the whole, and was well known by his scarlet cloak 
and waving plumes. In about an hour we lost sight of the combatants and 
saw no more of them until about four o'clock, when they we.-e discoveied 
descending the mountains on their return, the natives bearing five dead 
bodies slung on poles. 

Mr. Downes and his men soon afterward arrived at the camp, overcome 
with the fatigue of an exercise to wnich tney tiad been so little accustomed. 
He informed me that on his arrival near the tops of the mountains, the Ilap- 
pahs, stationed on the summit, had assailed him and his men with stones 
and spears ; that ho had driven them from place to place until they had 
taken refu'^'e in a fortress, erected in a manner before described, on the brow 



UF AMERICANS. 335 

of a steep hill. Here they all made a stand, to the number of between three 
and four thousand. They dared our people to ascend this hill, at the foot 
of which they had made a halt to take breath. The word was given by 
Mr. Downes to rush up the hill ; at that instant a stone struck him on the 
belly and laid him breathless on the ground, and at the same instant one of 
our people was pierced with a spear through his neck. This occasioned a 
halt, and they were about abandoning any farther attempt on the place : but 
Mr. Downes soon recovered, and finding himself able to walk gave orders 
for a charge. Hitherto our party had done nothing. Not one of the enemy 
had, to their knowledge, been wounded. They scoffed at our men, and ex- 
posed their posteriors to them, and treated them with the utmo.st contempt 
and derision. The friendly natives also began to think wo were not so 
formidable as we pretended : it became, therefore, absolutely necessary that 
the fort should be taken at all hazards. Our people gave three cheers, and 
rushed on through a shower of spears and stones, which the natives threw 
from behind their strong barrier, and it was not until our people entered the 
fort that they thought of retreating. Five were at this instant shot dead ; 
and one in particular, fought until the muzzle of the piece was presented to 
his forehead, when the top of his head was entirely blown off. As soon as 
this place was taken all further resistance was at an end. 

It was shocking to see the manner the friendly natives treated such as 
were knocked over with a shot ; they rushed on them with their war clubs 
and soon dispatched them : then each seemed anxious to dip his spear into 
the blood, which nothing could induce them to wipe off — the spear, from 
that time, bore the name of the dead warrior, and its value, in consequence 
of that trophy, was greatly enchanced. 

Gattanewa was astonished at our victory vvhicli, to him, seemed incredible ; 
and the number of dead which they had borne off as trophies had far ex- 
ceeded that of any former battle within his recollection : as they fight for 
weeks, nay for months sometimes, without killing any on either side, though 
many are, in all their engagements, severely wounded. The Tayehs had, 
however, a short time before our arrival, lost one of their priests of the 
greatest note, who had been killed by an ambuscade of the Happahs ; and 
this circumstance had occasioned a tabboo of the strictest nature to be es- 
tablished, which was now in full force and continued as long as we remained 
on the island. 

I am not acquainted with the ceremony of laying on these tabbooes, which 
are so much respected by the natives. 'J'liey are, however, laid by the priests, 
from some religious motive. Sometimes they are general, arid affect a whole 
valley, as the present ; sometimes they are confined to a single tribe ; at 
others to a family, and frequently to a single person. The word tahheo sig- 
nifies an interdiction, an embargo, or restraint, ; and the restrictions during 
the period of their existence may be compared to the lent of Catholics. 
They have tabbooed places, where they feast and drink kava — tabbooed 
houses where dead bodies are deposited, and many of th«ir trees, and even 
some of their walks are tabbooed. 

But, to proceed in my narrative : the Tayehs had brought iu the bodies 
of the five men killed in storming the fort. We met with no loss on our 
side or on that of our allies. We had two wounded, and one of the Indiana 



336 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

had liis jaw broke with a stone. The dead Ilappahs I was informed were 
Ij-ing in the public square, where the natives were rejoicing over them. I 
had been informed by the whites, on my arrival, and even by Wilson, that 
the natives of this island were cannibals : but, on the strictest inquiry, I 
could not learn that either of them had seen them in the act of eating 
human flesh. In conversing with Gattanewa on the subject, he did not 
hesitate to acknowledge that it was sometimes practiced. He said they 
sometimes eat their enemies. I found it difficult to reconcile this practice 
with the generosity and benevolence which were leading traits in their 
character. They are cleanly in their persons, washing three or four times a 
day : and also in their mode of cooking and manner of eating ; and it 
was remarked, that no islander was known to taste of anything whatever, 
until he had first applied it to his nose, and if it was in the slightest degree 
tainted or offensive to the smell, it was always rejected. How then can 
it be possible that a people so delicate, living in a country abounding 
with hogs, fruit, and a considerable variety of vegetables, should prefer a 
loathsome putrid human carcass, to the numerous delicacies their valleys 
afford ? 

I proceeded to the house of Gattanewa, which I found filled with women 
making the most dreadful lamentations, and surrounded by a large concourse 
of male natives. On my appearance there was a general shout of terror ; 
all fixed their eyes on me with looks of fear and apprehension. I approached 
the \vife of Gattanewa, and required to know the cause of this alarm. She 
said now that we had destroyed the Happahs they were fearful we should 
turn on them : she took hold of my hand, which she kissed, and moistened 
with her tears : then placing it on her head, knelt to kiss my feet. She told 
me they were willing to be our slaves, to serve us, that their houses, their 
lands, their hogs, and everything belonging to them were ours ; but begged 
that I would Lave mercy on her, her children, and her family, and not put 
them to death. It seemed that they had worked themselves up to the 
highest pitch of fear, aud on my appearance with a sentinel accompanying 
me, they could see in me nothing but the demon of destruction. I rai.sed 
the poor old woman from her humble posture, and begged her to banish her 
groundless fears, that I had no intention of injuring any person residing in 
the valley of Tieuhoy : that if the Happahs had drawn on themselves our 
vengeance, and felt our resentment, they had none to blame but themselves. 
I had offered them peace ; but they had preferred war ; I had proffered 
them my friendship, and they had spurned at it. That there was no alterna- 
tive left me. I had chastised them, and was appeased. I then exhorted 
the wife of Gattanewa to endeavor to impress on the minds of every person 
the necessity of living on friendly terms with us ; that we were disposed to 
consider them as brothers ; that we had come with no hostile intentions 
toward them, and so long as they treated us as friends we would protect 
them against all their enemies. The old woman was all attention to my dis- 
course as delivered through Wilson the interpreter; and I was about pro- 
ceeding when she requested me to stop. She now rose and commanded 
silence among the multitude, which had considerably augmented since my 
arrival, and addressed them with much grace aud energy in a speech of 
about half an hour; exhorting them, as I understood, to conduct themselves 



OF AMERICANS. 337 

with propriety, and explaining to them the advantages lilcely to result from 
a good understanding with lis. After she had finished, she took me affec- 
tionately by the hand, and reminded me that I was her husband. 

All alarms now were subsided. I inquired for Gattanewa, and was in- 
formed that he was at the public square rejoicing over the bodies of the 
slain, but had been sent for. I proceeded for the place and met the old man 
hastening home, lie had been out from the earliest dawn, and had not 
broken his fast. Ho held in one hand a cocoa-nut shell, containing a quan- 
tity of sour preparation of the bread-fruit, which is highly esteemed by the 
natives, and in the other a ratv fish, which he occasionally dipped into it as 
he ate it. As soon however as Wilson gave him to understand that the 
practice of eating raw fish was disagreeable to me, he wrapped the re- 
mainder in a palm leaf, and handed it to a youth to keep for him until a 
more convenient opportunity offered for indulging himself On my way to 
the squ.are I observed several young warriors hastening along toward the 
place armed with their spears, at the ends of which were hung plantains 
bread-fruit, or cocoa-nuts, intended as offerings to their gods ; and on my 
approach to the square, I could hear them beating their drums and chanting 
their war-songs. I soon discovered five or six hundred of them assembled 
about the dead bodies, which were lying on the ground. 

We had but little opportunity of gaining a knowledge of the language of 
those people while we remained among them ; but from the little we became 
acquainted with, we are satisfied that it is not copious ; few words serve to 
express all they wish to say ; and one word has oftentimes many significa- 
tions ; as for example, the word motee signifies I thank you, I have enough, I 
do not want it, I do not like it, Jceep it yourself, talce it away, etc. Mattee ex- 
presses every degree of injury which can hajjpen to a person or thing from 
the slightest harm to the most cruel death. Thus a prick of the finger is 
mattee, to have a pain in any part is mattee; mattee is to be sick, to be badly 
wounded is mattee, and mattee is to kill or be killed, to be broke (when 
speaking of inanimate objects), to be injured in any way, even to be dirtied 
or soiled is expressed by the word mattee. Motalcee, with slight variation of 
the voice, signifies every degree of good, from a thing merely tolerable, to 
an object of the greatest excellence ; thus itis, so, so good, very yooil, excellent : 
it signifies the qualities and disposition of persons ; thus they are tolerable, 
lihehj, handsome, or heautiful, — good, Mnd, henevolent, generous, humane. Ke- 
heva, which signifies had, is as extensive in its use as motakee, and, by suita- 
ble modulations of the voice, has meanings directly opposite. This is the 
case with many other words in their language ; indeed, with all we became 
acquainted with. Kie-h'e signifies to eat, it also signifies a trouhlcsomc fellow. 

The hogs of this island are generally of a small and inferior breed, but 
there are many as large and as fine as those of any part of the world. Ac- 
cording to the traditions of the natives, many generations ago, a' god named 
Haii visited all the islands of the group, and brought with him hogs and fowls, 
which he left among them. Ilaii was, no doubt, some navigator, who, near 
four centuries ago, by their reckoning left the aforesaid animals among the 
natives. Our accounts of voyages made into this sea do not extend so far 
back, and even if they did, we should be at a loss to know him from the 
came given to him by the natives. We found it impossible for them to pro- 



33S ADVKXTUKES AND ACHIEVEilEN'TS 

nounce our names distinctly, even after the utmost paius to teach them, and 
the most repeated trials on their part. They gave me the name of Opo/ei-, 
which was the nearest they could come to Porter. Mr. Downes was called 
Onou; Lieutenant Wilmer, Woorane; Lieutenant M'Knight, Mm-fieetie, and 
the name of every one else underwent au equal change. These names we 
were called by and answered to so long as we remained with them ; and ii is 
not improb;»ble that we shall be so c;\lled in their traditiousiry accounts. If 
there should I* no other means of handing our names down to posterity it 
is likely wo shall be as little known to future navigators as iZiiiV is to us. 
The natives call a hog lottarka, or TAtbei Fouarka ; and it is likely that they 
still retain the name nearly by which they were first known to them. The 
Spaniards call a hog poixa, giving it a sound very little different from that 
given by the natives of these islands ; and as the Spauiar^ls were the earliest 
navigators in these seas, there is scarcely a doubt that they are indebted to 
one of that cation for so precious a gitt. 

The cocoa-nuts grow in great abundance in every valley of the island, and 
are cultivated with much care. This tree is too well known to need a de- 
scription ; yet the mode used to propagate it may not be uninteresting. As 
the cocoa-nuts become ripe, they are carefully collecte<l from the tree, which 
is ascended by means of a slip of strong bark, with which they make their 
feet fast a little above the ankles, leaving them about a foot asunder ; they 
then grasp the tree with their arms, feet, and knees, aud the strip of bark 
testing on the rough projections of the bark of the tree, prevents them from 
slipping down : in this manner, by alternately shifting their feet and hands, 
they ascend with great apparent ease and rapidity the highe.-it tree. 

The btrra is a root much resembling a yam, of a pungent taste, and ex- 
cellent when boiled or roasted. The sugar-cane grows to an uncommon 
size here. The only use they make of it is to chew and swallow the juice. 

The kava is a root possessing an intoxicating quality, with which the 
chiefs are very fond of indulging themselves. They employ persons of a 
lower class to chew it for them and spit it into a wooden bowl ; after which a 
small quantity of water is mixed with it, when the juice is strained into a 
neatly polished cup, made of a cocoa-nut shell, and passed roand among 
them : it renders them very stupid and averse to hearing any noise : it de- 
prives them of their appetite, aud reduces them almost to a state of torpor : 
it has the effect of making their skin fall off in white scales ; affects their 
nerves, and no doubc brings on a premature old age. They applied the 
word kava to everything we eat or drank of a heating or pungent nature as 
rum or wine ; pepper, mustanil, and even salt. 

The bread-fruit tree of this island grows with great luxuriance, ir. exten 
sive groves, scattered through every valley. It is of the height of fifty or 
sixty feet, branching out in a large and spreading top, which ailbnis a beau- 
tiful appearance and an extensive shade frwm the rays of the sun ; the trunk 
is about six feet in circumference ; the lower branches about twelve feet 
from the ground ; the bark soft, and on being in the slightest degree 
wounded exudes a milky juice, not unpleasant to the taste, which, on being 
exfiifsed to the sun, forms an excellent bird-lime, and is used ^T the natives 
as such, i-iOt only for catching birds, but a small kicd of rat with which this 
i>iand is mKch infested. The leaves of this tree are sixteen inches long and 



OF AMERICANS. 333 

nine inches wide, deeply notched, somewhat like the fig leaf. The fruit, 
when ripe, is about the size of a child's head, green, and divided by slight 
traces into innumerable six sided figures. 'J'his fruit is somewhat eliptical 
in its shape, ha.s a thin and delicate skin, a large and tough core, with re- 
markably small seeds situated in a spongy substance between the core and 
the eatable part, which is next the rind. It is eaten baked, boiled or 
roasted ; whole, quartered, or cut in slices, and cooked ; either way was 
found exceedingly palatable, was greatly preferred by many to our soft 
bread, which it somewhat resembled in taste, but was much sweeter ; it was 
found also very fine, when cut into slices and fried in butter or lard. It 
keeps onh- three or four days, when gathered and hung up ; but the natives 
have a method of preserving it for several years, by baking, wrapping it up 
in leaves, and burying it in the earth : in that state it becomes very sour, 
and is then more highly esteemed by them than any other food. The 
bread-fruit tree is everything to the natives of these islands. The fruit 
serves them and their hogs for food throughout the year, and affords large su{v 
plies to be laid up for a season of scarcity. The trees afford them an agreeable 
and refreshing shade ; the leaves are an excellent covering for their houses ; 
of the inner bark of the small branches they make cloth ; the juice, which 
exudes, enables them to destroy the rats which infest them ; and of the 
trunk of the tree they form their canoes, many parts of their houses, and 
even their gods. Describe to one of the natives of Madison's Island a coun- 
try abounding in everything that we consider desirable, and after you are 
done he will ask you if it produces bread-fruit. A country is nothing to 
them without that blessing, and the season for bread-fruit is the time of joy 
and festivity : the season commences in December, and lasts until Septem- 
ber, when the greatest abundance reigns among them. 

On the first of November, MowuUaeeli, a chief of the Uappalis, and son-in- 
law to Gait'tnem, came, accompanied by several others of his tribe with the 
white handkerchief which I liad sent them, to treat with me for a peace. I 
received him with mildness, and gently expostulated with them on their im- 
prudence, in having insisted on hostilities with me. They expressed the ut- 
most regret for their past folly, and hoped that I would allow them in 
future to live on the same friendly terms w-ith me as GaUanewa and his 
people, stating their willingness to comply with everything I should exact 
from them in reason. I informed them that as I had offered them peace 
and they had rejected it, and had put me to the trouble of chastising them, 
it was proper that we should receive some compensation. We were in want 
of hogs and fruit, and they had an abundance of them, and I wished them 
to give me a supply, once a week, for my people, for which they should be 
compensated in iron and such other articles as would be most useful to them 
Gattanev:a and many of his tribe were present, and appeared charmed with 
the terms offered to the HappaJis; said they would henceforth be brothers, 
and observing that I had not yet presented my hand, took it affectionately 
and placed in that of Mowattaeefi. After a short silence IfowattaeeJi observed 
that we must suffer much from the rain in our tents, as they did not appear 
capable of r,ecuring us from the wet. Yt-s, said Gattanewa, and we are 
bound to make the Uekai — a title which they all rave me — and his people 
comfortable while they remain with us. Let every tribe at peace with him. 



340 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

build a house for their accommodation, and the people of the valhij of 
TievJwy will show them the example by building one for the residence of 
Opotee — Porter. This proposal met with general applause, and the people 
were immediately dispatched to prepare materials for erecting the fabric next 
day, at which time the Happahs promised to bring in their supply, and the 
day after to construct their house. In the course of the day, the other 
chiefs of the Happahs came in with their flags and subscribed to the terms 
proposed, and in less than two days I received envoys from every tribe in 
the island, with the exception only of the warlike tribes of Tijpces, of the 
valley of Yieeliee, and the Haiecaahcottwohos, in the distant valley of Hanna- 
Jtoio ; the first confiding in their strength, valor, and position ; the others in 
their distance and numbers for their protection. The first had always been vic- 
torious in all their wars and the terror of their enemies ; the others were their 
firm allies ; neither had they ever been driven ; they had been taught by their 
priests to believe that they never would be, and it was their constant boast 
that they had ever kept their valley free from the incursions of an enemy. 

All agreed to the terms proposed ; supplies were brought in by the tribes 
in great abundance, and from this time for several weeks, we rioted in lux- 
uries which the island afforded. To the principal persons of the tribes I 
always presented a harpoon, it being to them the most valuable article of 
iron, and to the rest scraps of iron hoops were thrown, in which they took 
much delight. 

Agreeable to the request of the chiefs I laid down the plan of the village 
about to bo built ; the line on which the houses were to be placed was al- 
ready traced by our barrier of water casks ; they were to take the form of a 
crescent, were to be built on the outside of the inclosure, and to be con- 
nected with each other by a wall twelve feet in length and four feet in 
height ; the houses were to be fifty feet in length, built in the usual fashion 
of the country, and of a proportioned width and height. 

On the 3d November, upward of four thousand natives, from the different 
tribes, assembled at the camp with materials for building, and before night 
they had completed a du'clling house for myself and another for the 
officers, a sail loft, a coopers' shop, and a jilace for our sick, a bake house, ,i 
guard house, and a shed for the sentinel to walk under ; the whole were 
connected by the walls as above described. We removed our barrier of water 
casks, and took possession of our delightful village, which had been built as 
if by enchantment. 

It seems strange how a people living under no form of government that 
we could ever perceive, having no chiefs over them who appear to possess 
any authority, having neither rewards to stimulate them to exertion nor 
dread of punishment before them, should be capable of conceiving and exe- 
cuting, with the rapidity of lightning, works which astonished us ; thej' ap- 
pear to act with one mind, to have the same thought, and to be operated on 
by the same impulse ; they can be compared onl}' to the beaver, whose in- 
stinct teaches them to design and execute works which claim our admira- 
tion. 

Some time after this I sent a messenger to the Typees to know if they 
wished to be at peace with us. In two days he returned and was desired 
by the Typees to toll Gattanewa and all the people of the valley of 'J'ieu- 



OF AMKRICAXS. 3il 

hoy that they were co\vards — that we had beat the llappahs because the 
Happahs were cowards ; that as to myself and my people, we were white 
lizards, mere dirt. We were, said they, incapable of standing fatigue, over- 
come by the slightest heat and want of water, and could not climb the 
mountains without Indians to assist us and carry our arms ; and yet we 
talked of chastising the Typoos, a tribe which had never been driven by an 
enemy, and as their gods informed them were never to be driven. 

I now inquired of Gattanewa the number of war canoes which he could 
equip and man ; he informed me ten, and that each would carry about thirty 
men, and that the llappahs could equip an equal number of equal size ; he 
told me it would be sis days before they could be put together and got in 
readiness ; but if I wished it his people should set about it immediately. I 
directed them to do so, and dispatched a messenger to the Happahs directing 
them to prepare their war canoes to be in readiness to go to war with the 
Typees, and await ray further orders. I gave them as well as the Tayehs to 
understand that it was my intention to attack them both by sea and by land, 
and that I should send a large bodj' of men in boats and a ship to protect 
the lauding of them and the war canoes, and that the remainder of the 
warriors of both tribes must proceed by land to attack them in the part 
where they were most assailable. I now conceived the design of construct- 
ing a fort, not only as a protection to our village and the harbor, but as a se- 
curity to the Tayehs against further incursions. I had for some time past 
intended leaving my prizes here as the most suitable place to lay them up, 
and this furt would give them additional security. 

Assisted b}' the Indians I began the construction of a fort which was com- 
pleted on the lith ; all worked with zeal, and as the friendly tribes were daily 
coming in with presents, all joined in the labor. The chiefs requested that 
they might be admitted on the same footing as the Taj-ehs, and everything 
promised harmony between ns ; they would frequently speak of the war 
with the Typees, and I informed them I only waited for their war canoes to 
be put together and launched. 

Ou the 19th November, the American flag was displayed in our fort, a 
salute of seventeen guns was fired from the artillery mounted there, and 
returned by the shipping in the harbor. The island was taken possession of 
for the United States, and called Madison's Island, the fort, Fort Madison, 
the village, Madison's Ville, and the buy, Massachusetts Bay. 

A few days after this I took a party of sailors and marines in some boats 
and went some eight miles fi-om our anchorage to examine a fine bay. We 
landed near a village at the mouth of a beautiful rivulet. On landing, many 
of the natives came to the beach, who seemed disposed to treat us in the 
most friendly manner ; but apprehensive of being troubled by their num- 
bers I drew a line in the sand at some distance about the boats, and informed 
them they were (ahhooed, and as an additional security to us, I caused all the 
arms to be loaded and ready for service on the first alarm, and sentinels 
placed ovei' them. Shortly after this the chief came down to invite me to 
the public square, the general place in all their villages for the reception of 
strangers. Sliortly after our arri\-al the women and girls assembled from all 
quarters of the town, dressed out in all their finery to meet us ; they were 
here free from all the restraints imposed by the tahloos and were abundantly 



3i3 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

anointecl with the oil of the cocoa-nut, and their skins well bedaubed with 
red and yellow paint, as was their clothing ; some were also smeared with 
greenish paint, the object of which I found on inquiry, was to preserve the 
fairness and beauty of the shin, and indeed of this they seemed to taku 
particular pains, every one of them being furnished with a kind of umbrella, 
formed of a bunch of palm leaves, to shield them from the effects of the 
sun : their care and attention in this particular had rendered them far supe- 
rior in point of beauty to the females of our valley, and the difference was 
so striking as to make them appear a distinct people. Some of the girls, 
probably in compliment to us, or to render themselves more attractive in our 
eyes, cleansed themselves (by washing in the stream) of their oil and paint, 
threw aside their bedaubed clothing, and soon appeared neatly clad in cloth 
of the purest white ; and I can say, without exaggeration, that I never have 
seen women more perfectly beautiful in form, features, and complexion, or 
that had playful innocence more strongly marked on their countenances or 
in their manners ; all seemed perfectly easj- and even graceful, and all strove 
by their winning attentions, who should render themselves most pleasing to 
us. The girls formed a circle round us, and those of a more advanced age were 
seated outside of them ; the men showed us every kind attention, and strove 
to convince ns of their friendship by bringing us cocoa-nuts, and cooking for 
us hogs and bread-fruit after their manner, which were found excellent. 

A daughter of Gattanewa was among them ; she was the wife of the 
chief who had met us on our arrival ; she seemed no less friendly disposed 
than her husband, and embraced me as her f ither, reminding me frequently 
that from the exchange of names I had become such ; from her fiUal affec- 
tion she bestowed on rae a bountiful supply of the red and yellow paint 
with which she was covered, and insisted on my sending away my boats and 
2)eople and remaining with them until the next day, and no e.xcuse that I 
could offer for my return to the ship would satisfy her; they all joined in 
her solicitations, and, as an inducement for me to remain, jaromised me the 
choicest mats to sleep on and the handsomest girls in the village to sing me 
to sleep. After our repast all the women joined in a song, which was ac- 
companied by the clapping of hands ; it lasted near half an hour, and was 
not unmusical. I inquired the subject of it, and was informed by Wilson 
that it was the history of the loves of a young man and a young woman of 
their valley : they sung their mutual attachment and the praises of their 
beauty ; described with raptures the handsome beads and whales' teeth ear 
rings with which she was bedecked, and the large whale's tooth which hung 
from his neck. They afterward joined in a short song which they appeared 
to compose as they sung, in which I could plainly distinguish the words 
OjJotee, tie tie3,pee2)ees, etc. (Porter presents beads, etc.), after which they strove 
in various ways who should most amuse us, the men in dancing, the girls in 
playing scratch cradle (an amusement well known in America), at which 
they are more dextrous than any other I ever met with. 

Our time passed rapidly with these kind people, and the evening ap- 
proached before we were aware of it. It became necessary to hasten to the 
ship, and we bade them farewell, with a promise that v.e should (shortly 
return and bring with us a larger supply of peepeea and other tie ties, so 
much desired by them. 



OF AMERICAXS. 3i3 

On the 27 til I^ovember I informed the Tayohs and Ilappahs that I should 
next day go to war with the Typeos, agreeable to my original plan. The 
Essex Junior sailed iu the afternoon, and I proceeded next morning, at three 
o'clock, w\i]i five boats, accomjianied by ten war canoes, blowing their 
conches as a signal by which they could keep together. We arrived -at tha 
Typee landing at sunrise, and were joined by ten war canoes from the Ilap- 
pahs ; the Essex Junior soon after arrived and anchored. The tops of all 
the neighboring mountains were covered with the Tayeh and Happah war- 
riors, armed with their spears, clubs, and slings ; the beach was covered with 
the warriors who came with the canoes, and who joined us from the hills ; 
our force did not amount to a less number than five thousand men. I had 
brought with me one of those whom I had intended to employ as ambas- 
sadors ; he had intermarried with the Typees and was privileged to go among 
them ; I furnished him with a white flag and sent him to inform the Typees 
that I had come to offer them peace, but was prepared for war ; that I only 
required that thoy should submit to the same terms as those entered into by 
the other tribes, and that terms of friendship would be much more pleasing 
to me than any satisfaction which I expected to derive from chastising them. 
In a few minutes after the departure of my messenger he came running 
back, the picture of terror, and informed me he had met in the bushes an 
ambuscade of Typees, who, regardless of his flag of truce, which he dis- 
played to them, had driven him back with blows, and had threatened to put 
him to death if he again ventured among them ; and in an instant afterward 
we had a confirmation of his statement iu a shower of stones which came 
from the bushes. To remain still would have proved fatal to us; to have 
retreated would have convinced them of our fears and our incapacity to in- 
hijure them ; our only safety was in advancing and endeavoring to clear the 
thicket, which I had been informed Wiis of no great extent. 

We advanced a mile or more when wo came to a small opening on the 
bank of a river, from the thicket on the opposite side of which we were 
assailed with a shower of stones, when Lieutenant Downes received a blow 
which shattered the bone of his left leg, and he fell. We had left parties 
in ambush in our rear, which w-e had not been able to dislodge, and to trust 
him to the Ii.dians alone to take b.ick was hazarding too much. The In- 
dians began to leave us ; all depended on our own exertions, and no time was 
to bo lost in deliberation. I there-fore directed Mr. Shaw with four men to 
escort Lieutenant Downes to the beach ; this with the party I had left for 
the protection of the boats reduced my number to twenty-four men. As 
we continued our march the number of our allies became reduced, and even 
the bravo Mouiua, the first to expose himself, began to hang back ; while he 
kept in advance, he had, by the quickness of his .'■■ight, ivhicli was asto-jish- 
ing, put us on our guard as the stones and spears came, and enabled us to 
elude them, but now they came too thick even for him to withstand. 

We soon came to the jilace for fording the river ; in the thick bushes of 
tiie opposite banl\3 of which the Typees, who were here very numerous, 
made a bold stand, and showered on us their spears and other missiles. Wo 
endeavored in vain to clear the bushes of the opposite b.anKS with our 
musketry. The stones and spears flew with augmented numbers. Finding 
that we could not disloge them, I directed a volley to be fired, three cheers 



344 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

to be given, and to dash across the river. We soon gained the opjjosite bank 
and continued our march, rendered still more difficult by the underwood, 
which was here interlaced to that degree as to make it necessary sometimes 
to crawl on our hands and knees to get along. We were harassed as usual 
by the Typees for about a quarter of a mile through a thicket which, at 
almost any other time, I should have considered impassable. On emerging 
from the swamp we felt new life and spirits ; but this joy was of short dura- 
tion, for on casting up our eyes, we jjerceived a strong and extensive wall 
of seven feet in height, raised on an eminence crossing our road, and flanked 
on each side by an impenetrable thicket, and in an instant afterward were 
assailed by a shower of stones, accompanied by the most horrid yells. 

Finding we could not dislodge them, I gave orders for pushing on and en- 
deavoring to take it by storm : but some of my men had by this time ex- 
pended all their cartridges, and there were few who had more than three 
or four remaining. This discouraging news threw a damp on the spirits of 
the whole party; without ammunition our muskets were rendered inferior 
to the weapons of the Typees, and if we could not advance, there could be 
no doubt we should bo under the necessity of fighting our way back ; and 
to attempt this with our few remaining cartridges, would be hazarding too 
mucli. Our only safety now depended on holding our ground until we 
could procure a fresh supply of ammunition, and in reserving the few 
charges on hand until it could be brought to us. I nu ntioned my inten- 
tions to my people, exhorted them to save their ammuidtion as much as 
possible, and dispatched Lieutenant Gamble with a detachment of four men 
to the beach, there to make a boat and proceed to the Essex Junior for a 
fresh supiply. My number was now reduced to nineteen men ; there was 
no officer but myself; the Indians had all deserted me except Mouina ; and 
to add to our critical and dangerous situation, three of the men remaining 
witli me were knocked down with stones. Mouina begged me to retreat, 
crying mattee I mattee ! The wounded entreated me to permit the others 
to carry them to the beach, but I had none to spare to accompany them. I 
saw no hopes of succeeding against the natives, so long as they kept their 
stronghold ; and determined to endeavor to draw them out by a feint re- 
treat, and by this means to gain some advantage. For to return without 
gaining some advantage would, I believed, have rendered an attack from 
the Happahs certain. I communicated my intentions ; directed the wounded 
to be taken care of; gave orders for all to run until we were concealed by 
the bushes, and then halt. We retreated for a few paces, and in an instant 
the Indians rushed on us with hideous yells. The first and second which 
advanced were killed at the distance of a few paces, and those who at- 
tempted to carry them off were wounded. This checked them, they aban- 
doned their dead and precipitately retreated to their fort. Not a moment 
was now to be lost in gaining the opposite side of the river. Taking advan- 
tage of the terror they were thrown into, we marched off with our wounded. 
Scarcely had we crossed the river before we were attacked with stones ; but 
here they halted, and we returned to the beach much fatigued and harassed 
with marching and fighting, and with no contemptible opinion of the enemy 
we had encountered or the difficulties we should have to surmount in con- 
quering them. 



OF AMERICANS. 3^5 

On my arrival I found the boat which hail been missiiij;, together witli a 
reinforcemeiil of men from the Essex Junior, and a supply of ammunition, 
I was desirous of sounding the Typees before I proceeded to further ex- 
tremities, as also to impress our allies with the idea that we could carry all 
before us. They told ray messenger to tell me that they had killed my 
chief warrior — for such tlie.y supposed Mr. Downes to be — tliat tliey had 
wounded several of my people, and compelled us to retreat. The\- knew 
their strength and the numbers they could oppose ; and hcM our bouhics in 
more contempt thau ever, they frequently missed fire, rarely killed, and the 
wounds they occasioned were not as pjainful as those of a spear or stone ; 
and, they added, they knew they would prove perfectly useless to us should 
it come on to rain. They dared us to renew the contest ; and as.sured us 
they would not retreat beyond where wo had left them. 

Overcome with fatigue and discouraged by the formidable appearance of 
their fortress, my men also fatigued and disheartened from the number of 
wounded, I determined to leave them for the present, but meditated a severe 
punishment for them. The Happahs had now descended the hills with 
their arms ; the Shouemcs appeared on the other side, and " the Typees 
have driven the white men," was the constant topic of conversation. We 
wore still but a handful and were surrounded by several thousand Indians ; 
and although they professed friendship, I did not feel safe. I therefore di- 
rected everybod}' to embark and proceed to the Essex Junior, anxious to 
know the state of Lieutenant Downes. 

The nest day I determined to proceed witii a force which I believed they 
could not resist, and selected two hundred men from the Essex, the Es.sex 
Junior, and from the prizes. 

In the evening I caused the party to be sent on shore and determined to 
go by land. We had a fine moonlight night, and I hoped to be down in 
the Typee valley long before daylight, and to take them by surprise. I di- 
rected the party sent in advance to halt as soon as they had gained the top 
of the mountain until I came up with the main body. There I intended 
encamping for the night, should our men not be able to stand the fatigue of 
a longer march. Several gave out before we reached the summit, which we 
did in about three hours, with great difficulty ; but after resting a short time, 
and finding ourselves refreshed, the moou shining out bright, and our guides 
informing us (though very incorrectly) that we were uot more than si.x miles 
from the enemy, we again marched. Several Indians had joined us, but I 
had imposed silence on them, as we were under the necessity of passing a 
IlappaU village, and was fearful of their discovering us, and giving, intelli- 
gence to the T3'pee.''.. Kot a whisper was heard from one end of the line to 
the other ; our guides marched in front, and we followed in silence up and 
down the steep sides of rocks and mountains, through rivulets, thickets, and 
reed breaks, and by the sides of precipices which sometimes caused us to 
shudder. At twelve o'clock we could hear the drums beating in the Typee 
valley accompanied by loud singing, and the number of lights in different 
parts of it induced me to believe they were rejoicing. I inquired the cause, 
and was informed by the Indians they were celebrating the victory they 
had obtained over us, and calling on their gods to give tlicra rain in order 
that it might render our bonhies useless. We soon arrived at the pathway 



3i6 ADVEXTUllES AND ACHIEVEMEXTS 

leading from the top of the mountain into the valley ; but the Indians 
told lis that it would be impossible to descend it without day-light ; that the 
mountain was almost perpendicular, and that in many places we should be 
under the necessity of lowering ourselves down with great caution, and that 
it would be even necessary for them to assist us in the daj'-tirae to enable us 
to get down with safety. I concluded that it would be most advisable to 
wait for day-light before we attempted to descend. We were in possession 
of the pathway to the valley, and could prevent the llappahs from giving 
them any intelligence of us; we were on a narrow ridge running between 
the valleys of the two tribes and well situated to guard against surprise and 
defend ourselves from an attack from either; and what added to the con- 
venience of our situation, we had a stream of water not far distant. 

After placing guards we laid down on our arms. I had fallen into a dose 
when an Indian came to inform me that it was coming on to rain very 
heavy, and as he expressed himself would mattee ! mattee ! bouhie. This 
appearance of rain caused loud shouts of joy in the Typee valley and 
drums were beating in every quarter. I cautioned ni\' men about taking 
care, of their arms and ammunition ; but from the violence of the rain, 
which soon poured down in torrents, I had little hopes that a musket would 
He kept dry or a cartridge saved. Never, in the course of my life, did I 
spi.ud a more anxious or disagreeable night, and I believe there were few 
with me who had ever seen its equal. A cold and piercing wind accompanied 
tlie deluge, for I can call it nothing else, and chilled us to the very heart; 
without room to keep ourselves warm by moving about, fearful of stirring, 
lest we might be percipitated into eternity down the steep sides of the 
mountains, for the ridge had now become so slipperj' we could scarcely 
keep our feet — we all anxiously looked for morning, and the first dawn of 
day, although the wind and rain still continued, was a cheering sight to us, 
notwithstanding our apprehensions for the fate of the ammunition and the 
conditions of our muskets. We were all as perfectly wot as though we 
had been under water the whole time, and we scarcely entertained a hope 
that a single cartridge or musket had escaped. The Indians kept exclaim- 
ing that our muskets wore spoilt, and anxiously wished us to retreat in time ; 
but notwithstanding my fears on the subject, I endeavored to impress them 
■with a belief that water could do them no injury. As soon as it was light 
enough I w'ent among my men and inquired into -the state of their arms 
and ammunition. The first had escaped bettor than I had any reason to 
hope ; but of the latter more Uian one half was wot and uuP.t for service. 

The llappab village hiy on one side of the mountain, as I before observed, 
the Typee on the other, and when it was light enough to .see down into the 
valley of the latter we were asconisned at tne greatness of llie height we 
were elevated above them, and the steepness of the mountain by which we 
should have to descend to get to them. A narrow pathway pointed out the 
track, but it was soon lost among the cliffs. The Indians informed me that 
in the present slippery state of the mountain no one could descend, and as 
our men were much harassed with fatigue, overcome with hunger, shiver- 
ing and uncomfortable, I dete mined to take up my quarters in the Happah 
valley until next day to enable us to refresh, and I hoped by that time the 
weather would prove more favorable. The chief soon arrived, and I com- 



OF AMERICANS. 347 

municatcJ to liim my intentions, directing liim to send down ;ind havu 
houses provided for us, as also hogs and fruit, all of which he promised 
should be done. Before I left the hill I determined by firing a volley to 
show the natives that our muskets had not received as much injury as they 
had expected, as I believed, under their impression.s, at that moment, the 
Ilappahs would not have hesitated in making an attack on us, and to avoid 
any diflicultie.'; with them I thought it best to convince them we were still 
formidable. I had other motives also for firing, the Taychs and Ilappahs, 
I knew, would accompany us into the Typoe valley; and as I had put off 
our descent until the next day, I concluded that it would be best to give 
them timely notice of our approach, that they might be enabled to i-emove 
their women and children, their hogs, and most valuable eft'ects ; for although 
I felt desirous of chastising them for their cunluct, I wished to prevent the 
innocent from suffering, or the pillage and destruction of their property by 
the Indians who accompanied- us. I accordingly directed my men to as- 
semble on the ridge and to fire a volley ; the Typees had not until then seen 
us, nor had they the least suspicion of our being there. As soon as they 
heard the report of our muskets, and discovered our number.-;, which, with 
the multitude of Indians of both tribes who had now assembled, was very 
numerous, they shouted, beat their drums, and blew their war conches from 
one end of the valley to the other: and what with the squealing of the 
hoes, which they now began to catch, the screaming of the women and chil- 
dren, and the yelling of the men, the din was horrible. 

After firing our volley, which went ofl' better than I expected, we de- 
scended, with great diiSculty, into the village of the Ilappahs, and were 
shown into the public square. Around this place were several vacant houses 
which had, in all appearance, been vacated on our account : in these I quar- 
tered my officers and men, assigning to eacli ship's crow their abode. The 
Happahs assembled about us, armed with their clubs and spears ; and the 
women, who had at first crowded round us, now began to abandon us. Every- 
thing bore the appearance of a hostile disposition on the part of the Hap- 
pahs : our friends the Tayehs cautioned us to be on our guard. I directed 
everyone to keep their arms in their hands, ready to assemble at a moment's 
warning. I now sent for their chief and required to know if they were 
hostilely disposed. I told hira it was necessary we should have something 
to eat, and that I expected his people to bring us hogs and fruit, and if they 
did not do so I should be under the necessity of sending out jiarties.to shoot 
them and cr.t down their fruit trees, as our people were tjo m'.ich fatigujd 
to climb them. I also directed thac they should lay ly their spears and 
clubs. No notice being taken of these demands, I caused many of their 
spears and clubs to be taken from them aiid broken, and sent parties out co 
shoot hogs, while others were emploj'cd in cutting down cocoa-nut and ba- 
nana trees until we had a sufficient supply. 

The chiefs and the people of the Happah tribe now became intimidated 
and brought the baked hogs in greater abundance than were requirea ; friend- 
ship was re-established, and the women returned. When night approached, 
proper lookouts were placed, fires made before each house : tliose of the 
tribe of Tayehs remained with us, the Ilappahs retired. All not on guard 
devoted themselves to sleep, and at daylight, next morning, we equally 



3iS ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMEXTS 

divided our ammunition, and tlie line of march was formed. All bad put 
their arms in a good stata for service, and all were fresh and vigorous ; each 
being supplied with a small quantity of pr(;visions for the day. 

On ascending the ridge, where we had passed such a disagreeable night, 
we halted to take breath, and view, for a few minutes, this delightful valley, 
which was soon to become a scene of desolation. From the hill we had a 
distant view of every part, and all appeared equally delightful. The valley 
was about nine miles in length and three or four in breadth, surrounded ou 
over}' part, except the beach, where we formerly landed, by lofty mountains ; 
the upper part was bounded by a precipice of many hundred feet in height, 
from the top of which a handsome sheet of water was precipitated, and 
formed a beautiful river, which ran meandering tlirough the valley and dis- 
charged itself at the beach. Villages were scattered hero and there ; the 
bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees flourished luxuriantly and in abundance ; 
plantations laid out in good order, inclosed with stone walls, were in a high 
state of cultivation, and everything bespoke industry, abundance, and hap- 
piness — never in my life did I witness a more delightful scene, or experience 
more repugnance than I now felt for the necessity which compelled me to 
punish a happy and heroic people. 

A large assemblage of Typee warriors were posted on the oj.iposite bardvS 
of the river (which glided near the foot of the mountain) and dared us to 
descend. In their rear was a fortified village, secured by strong stone walls ; 
drums were beating and war conches were sounding in several parts, and we 
soon found they were disposed to make ever}' effort to oj)pose us. I gave 
orders to descend ; Mouiua offered himself as our guide, and I directed him 
to lead us to their principal village : but finding the fatigue of going down 
the mountain greater than I expected, I gave orders to halt before crossing 
the river, to give time for the rear to close, which had become much scat- 
tered, and tliat all might rest. As soon as we reached the foot of the moun- 
tain we were annoyed bj- a shower of stones from the bushes, and from be- 
hind the stone walls ; but as we were also enabled to shelter ourselves behind 
others, and being short of ammunition I would not permit any person to 
fire. — After resting a few minutes I directed the scouting parties to gain ihe 
opposite bank of the river, and followed with the main body. 

We were greatly annoyed with stones, and before all had crossed, the 
fortified village was taken without any loss on our side. Their chief warrior 
and another were killed, and several wounded — they retreated only to 
stone walls situated on higher grounds, where they continued to sling their 
stones and throw their spears. Three of my men were wounded, and many 
of the Typees killed before we dislodged them ; parties were sent out iu 
different directions to scour the woods, and another fort was taken after 
some resistance; but the party, overpowered by numbers, were comjielled 
to retreat to the main body after keeping possession of it half an hour. We 
were waiting in the fort first taken for the return of our scouting parties — a 
multitude of Tayehs and Happahs were with us, and manj' were on the 
outskirts of the village seeking for plunder: Lieutenant M'Knight had 
driven a party from a strong wall on the high ground, and had possession 
of it, when a large party of Typees, which had been lying in ambush, rushed 
by Iiis fire, and darted into the fort with their spears : the Tayelis and flap- 



OF AMERICAXS. 349 

pahs all rail, the Typeea approached within pistol shot, but on the first fire 
retreated preci])ilately, crossing the fire of Mr. M'Knight's party, and 
although none fell, we had reason to believe that many were wounded. The 
spears and stones were flying from the bushes in every direction, and 
although we killed and wounded in this place great numbers of them, we 
were satisfied, from the opposition made, that we should have to fight our 
■whole way through the valley. 

It became now necessary to guard against a useless consumption of am- 
munition the scouting parties had returned, and some had expended all 
their cartridges ; I exhorted them to be more careful of them, and after 
having given them a fresh supply, forbid any firing from tiie main body, 
unless we should be attacked by great numbers. I now left a party in this 
place, posted in a house, with the wounded, and another pnrty in ambush 
behind a wall, and directed Mouina to lead us to the ne.\t village ; but before 
marching I sent a messenger to inform the Typees that we should cease hos- 
tilities when they no longer made resistance, but so long a.s stones were 
thrown I should destroy their villages. No notice was taken of this message. 
We continued our march up the valley, and met in our way several beau- 
tiful villages, which were set on fire, and at length arrived at their capital, 
for it deserves the name of one. We had been compelled to fight every 
inch of ground, as we advanced, and here thoy made considerable oppo- 
sition ; the place was however, soon carried, and I very reluctantly set firo 
to it. 

The beauty and regularity of this place was such, as to strike every spec- 
tator with astonishment, and their grand site, or public square, was far su- 
perior to any other we had met with ; numbers of their gods were here de- 
stroyed, several large and elegant new war canoe.s, which had never been 
used were burnt in the houses th.at sheltered them ; many of their drums, 
which they had been compelled to abandon, were thrown into the flames, 
and our Indians loaded themselves with plunder, after destroying bread- 
fruit and other trees, and all the young plants they could find ; we had now 
arrived at the upper end of the valley, about nine miles from the beach, and at 
the foot of the water-fall above mentioned; the day was advancing; wo 
had yet much to do, and it was necessary to hasten our return to the fort 
first taken, where we arrived after being about four hours absent, leaving be- 
hind us a scene of ruin and dessolation. I had hoped that the Typees had 
now abandoned all further thoughts of resistance ; but on my return to the 
fort I found the parties left there liad been annoyed the whole time of my 
absence ; but being sheltered from the stones and short of animuuition, they 
had not fired on the enemy. 

This fort was situated exactly half-way up the valley; to return by the 
road wo descended the hill would have been impo.ssible, it became therefore 
necessary to go to the beach, wliere I was informed that the difficulty 01 
ascending the mountains would not be so great ; many were exhausted with 
fatigue, and began to feel the cravings of hunger, and I directed a halt, 
that all might rest and refresh themselves. After resting about half an hour 
I directed the Indians to take care of our wounded : we formed the line of 
march and proceeded down the valley, and in our route destroyed several 
Other villages, at all of which we had some skirmishing with the enemy. 



350 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

At one of those places, situated at the foot of a steep liill, they rolled enor- 
mous stones down, with a view of crushing us to death, but they did us no 
injury. The number of villages destroyed amounted to ten, and the de- 
struction of trees and plants and the plunder carried ofT by the Indians is 
almost incredible. The Tj'pees fought us to the last, and even at first ha- 
rassed our rear on our return ; but parties left in ambush soon put a stop to 
any further annoyance. We at length came to the formidable fort which 
checked our career on our first day's enterprise, and although I had witnessed 
many instances of the great exertion and ingenuity of these islanders, I 
never had supposed them capable of contriving and erecting a work like 
this, so well calculated for strength and defense. 

There are but three entrances into this valley, one on the wesi, which we 
descended, one on the cast, and one from the beach. No force whatever 
had before dared to attack them on the west, on account of the impossibility 
of retreating, in case of a repulse, which they calculated on as certain. The 
passage on the east led from the valley of their friends, and that from the 
beach was guarded by fortresses deemed impregnable, and justl}' so against 
aTiy force which could be brought against them unassisted by artillery. On 
viewing the strength of this place I could not help felicitating myself on 
the lucky circumstance which had induced me to attack them by land, for I 
believed we should have failed in an attempt on this place. 

On ray arrival at the beach I met Tavee and many of his, the Shouemo 
tribe, together with the chiefs of the Happahs. Tavee was tlie bearer of a 
white flag and several of the same emblems of peace were flying on the 
different hills around his valley ; he was desirous of knowing whether I in- 
tended going to their valley, and wished to be informed when he should 
again bring presents, and what articles he should bring: he inquired if I 
would still be his friend and reminded me that I was Temaa Typec, the 
chief of the valley of Shoueme, and that his was Tavee. I gave him as- 
surances of my friendship, requested him to return and allay the fears of 
the women, who, he informed me, were in the utmost terror, apprehensive 
of an attack from me. The chiefs of the Happahs invited me to return to 
their valley, assuring me that an abundance of everything was already pro- 
vided for us, and the girls, who had assembled in great numbers dressed out 
in their best attire welcomed our return with smiles, and notwithstanding 
our wet and dirty situation — for it had been raining the greater part of the 
day — convinced us by their looks and gestures that they were disposed to 
give us the most friendly reception. 

Gattanewa met me on the side of the hill as I was ascending : the old 
man's heart was full, he could not speak ; he placed both my hands on his 
head, rested Lis fovehead on my Lnees, and after a shcrt pjause, raising him- 
self, placed his hands on my breast, exclaiming, Gattanewa ! and then on his 
own said, Apotee, to remind me we had exchanged names. 

When I had reached the summit of the mountain, I stopped to contem- 
plate [hat valley which, in i,he luorniug, we had viewed in all its beauty, 
the scene of abund.anco and happiness — a long line of smoking ruins now 
marked our traces from one end to the other ; the opposite hills were cov- 
ered with the unhappy fugitives, and the whole presented a scene of des- 
olation and horror. Unhappy and heroic people ! the victims of your own 



or AMERICANS. 351 

courage and mistaken pride, while the instruments of j'our own fate, shed 
the tears of pity over j-our misfortunes, thousands of your countrymen — 
nay, brethren of the same family — triumphed in your distresses ! 

I shall not fatigue myself or the reader by a longer account of this ex- 
pedition ; we spent the night with the Ilapi^ahs, who supplied us most 
abundantly, and next morning, at daylight, started for Madison's Ville, 
where we arrived about eight o'clock, after an absence of three nights and 
two davs, during which time we marched upward of sixty miles, by paths 
which had never before been trodden but by the natives. Several of my 
stoutest men were for a long time laid up by sickness occasioned by their 
excessive fatigue, and one (Corporal Mahan of the marines) died two days 
after his return. 

The day of our return was devoted to rest ; a messenger was, however, 
dispatched to the Typees informing them I was still willing to make peace, 
and that I should not allow them to return to their valley until they had 
come on terms of friendship with us. The messenger on his return informed 
me that the Typees on his arrival, were in the utmost consternation ; but 
that my message had diffused the most lively joy among them : there was 
nothing they desired more than peace, and they would be willing to pur- 
chase my friendship on any terms. He informed me that a flag of truce 
would be sent in next day to know my conditions. 

On the arrival of the Typee flag, which was borne by a chief accompanied 
by a priest, I informed them that I still insisted on a compliance with the 
conditions formerly offered them, to-wit, an exchange of presents and peace : 
with myself and the tribes who had allied themselves to me. They readily 
consented to these terms, and requested to know the number of hogs I should 
require, stating that they had lost but few, and should be enabled to supply 
us abundantly ; I told them I should expect from them four hundred, which 
they assured me should be delivered without delay. Flags were now sent 
to me again from all the tribes in the island, even the most remote and in- 
considerable, with large presents of hogs and fruit, and we had never at any 
time since we had been on the island experienced such abundance. 

Peace now being established throughout the island, and the utmost har- 
mony reigning, not only between us and the Indians, but between the dif- 
ferent tribes, they mixed with one another about our village in the most 
friendly manner, and the different chiefs with the priests came daily to visit 
me. They were all much delighted that a general peace had been brought 
about, that they might now all visit the different parts of the island in 
safety ; and many of the oldest men assured me that they had never before 
been out of the valley in which they ^^•cre born. They repeatedly expressed 
their astonishment and admiration that I should have been enabled to effect 
so much in so short a time, and that I should have been able to extend my 
influence so far as to give them such complete pi'otection, not only in the 
valley of Tieuhoy, but among the tribes with which they had been at war 
from the earliest periods, and had heretofore been considered their natural 
enemies. I informed them that I should shortly leave them and should 
return again at the expiration of a year. I exhorted them to remain at peace 
with one another, and assured them that if they should be at war on my 
urn, I should punish the tribes most in fault. They all gave me tha 



352 ADVENTUilES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

strongest assurances of a disposition to remain on good terms, not only with 
me and my people, but with one another. 

I now was enabled to make little excursions occasionally into different 
parts of the valley, and visit the natives at their houses, which was what J 
had not been enabled to do heretofore, as ray various occupations had kept 
me much confined to our village. On these occasions I always met the 
most hospitable and friendly reception from the natives of both sexes. 
Cocoa-nuts and whatever else they had were offered me, and I rarely re- 
turned home without several little tie-ties as a token of their regard I 
generally took with me seeds of dift'erent descriptions, with which I was pro- 
vided, such as melons, jjumpkins, peas, beans, oranges, limes, etc., together 
with peach stones, wheat and Indian corn, which were planted within tha 
inclosures, in the most suitable places for them, the natives always assisting 
in pulling up the weeds and clearing the ground for planting them. The 
nature of the different kinds of vegetables and fruit that each kind of grain 
would produce was explained to them, and they all promised to take the 
utmost care of them and prevent the hogs from doing them any injury. I 
directed them not to pull any of the fruit until they had consulted Wilson 
to know if they were ripe. Among all the seeds that were sown there was 
none which gave them so much pleasure as the wheat, which they called 
maic, which is the name they gave the bread-fruit ; they would not believe, 
however, at first that it was from this grain we made our bread (which they 
also called male, but sometimes potato) until I had ground some of the 
grain between two stones, and showed them the flour, which produced from 
them the most joyous exclamations of male ! male ! male ! and all began to 
clear away spots for sowing the grain, and bringing me leaves and cocoa-nut 
shells, begging that I would give them some to take home to plant. 

I endeavored to impress them with an idea of the value of the seeds I 
was planting, and explained to them the different kinds of fruit they would 
produce, assuring them of their excellence, and as a farther inducement to 
them to attend their cultivation, I promised them that, on my return, I 
would give them a whale's tooth for every ripe pumpkin and melon they 
would bring me ; and to the chiefs of the distant tribes, to whom I distri- 
buted the different kinds of seeds, I made the same promise. I also gave 
them several English hogs of a superior breed, which they were very anx- 
ious to procure. I left in charge of Wilson some male and female goats, 
and as I had a number of young Galapagos tortoises, I distributed several 
among the chiefs, and permitted a great many to escape into the bushes and 
among the grass. 

In one of those excursions, I was led to the chief place of religious cere- 
mony of the valley. It is situated high up the valley of the Ilavvous, in a 
fine grove, and I regret extremely that I had it not in my power to make a 
correct drawing of it on the spot, as it far exceeds in splendor everything of 
the kind described by Captain Cook, or represented in the plates which ac- 
company his voyage. 

Some time previous to this I had been tabbooed at my request by Gatta- 
newa ; this gave me the privilege of visiting and examining all their places 
of religious worship, and I now took advantage of my right in going into 
the grove among the gods, accompanied by the attendants on the jlace. 



OF AMEniCAXS. 353 

Wilson could not accompany me there, and I was not enabled to make in- 
riiiiry on many subjects ; but observing that they treated all their gods with 
little respect, frequently catching them by their large ears, drawing my at- 
tention to their wide mouths, their flat noses, and large eyes, and pointing 
out to me, by signs, all their other deformities, I told Wilson to inform 
them I thought they treated their gods very disrespectfully — they told me 
that those were like themselves, mere attendants on their divinity, as they 
were on the priest ; that I had not yet seen their greatest of all gods, that 
he was la a small house, which they pointed out, situated at the corner of 
the grove ; and on my expressing a desire to see him, after a short consul- 
tation among themselves, they brought him out on the branch of a co- 
coa-nut tree, when I was surprised to find him only a parcel of papiir cloth 
secured to a piece of a spear about four feet long ; it in some measure re- 
sembled a child in swaddling cloths, and the part intended to represent the 
head had a number of strips of cloth hanging from it about a foot ii: length ; 
I could not help laughing at the ridiculous appearance of the god they wor- 
shiped, in which thoy all joined mo with a great deal of good humor, 
some of them dandling and nursing the god, as a child would her doll. 

I endeavored to ascertain whether they had an idea of a future state, re- 
wards and j5ursishments, and the nature of their heaven. As respects the 
latter they believed it to be an island, somewhere in the sky, abound- 
ii«g with everything desirable ; that those killed in war and carried olT by 
their friends go there, provided they are furnished with a canoe and piro- 
visions, but that those who arc carried off by the enemy, never reach it un- 
less a sufficient number of the enemy can be obtained to paddle his canoe 
there, and for this reason they were so anxious to procure a crew for their 
jiriest, who was killed and carried off by the Ilappahs. They have neither 
rewards nor punishments in this world, and I could not learn that they ex- 
pected any in the next — their religion, however, is like a plaything, an 
amusement to them, and I very much doubt whether they, at any moment, 
give it a serious thought; their priests and jugglers manage those matters 
for them ; what they tell them they believe, and do not put themselves to 
the trouble of considering whether it is right or wrong. They are very 
credulous, and will as readily believe in one religion as another. I have ex- 
plained to them the nature of the Christian religion, in a manner to suit 
their ideas ; they listened with much attention, appeared pleased with the 
novelty of it, and agreed that our God must be greater than theirs. Our 
chaplain Mr. Adams endeavored to collect from one of their priests some 
notions of his religion, and among other things inquired of him whether, 
according to their lielief, the body was translated to the other world or only 
the spirit; the priest, after a considrable pause, at length replied, that the 
flesh and bones went to the earth, but that aU within went to the sky : from 
his manner, however, the question seemed greatly to embarrass him, and it 
appeared as though a new field was opened to his view. 

Besides the gods at the burying- place, or mora!, for so it is called by theiu, 
they have their household gods, which are hung round their necks, generally 
made of human bones, and others, which are carved on the handles of their 
fans, on their stilts, their canes, and more particularly on their war clubs ; 
but those gods are not hold in any estimation, they are sold, exchanged, and 



354 ADVENTUKES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

given away with the same indifference as any other object, and indeed tho 
most precious relics, the skulls and other bones of their relations, are disposed 
of with equal indifierence. 

AVheu we \vere at war with the Typees, the Ilappahs and Tayohs made 
a strict 'search in the houses of the enemy for the skulls of their aucestorsi 
who had been slain in battle (knowing where they were deposited) ; 
many were found, and the possessors seemed rejoiced that they had re- 
covered from the enemy so inestimable a relic. Dr. Hoflman seeing a man 
with three or four skulls strung round his waist, asked him for them, and 
they were given up immediately, although they had belonged to his father, 
brother, or some near relation. Next day several appeared at the village 
with the skulls to traffic for harpoons. A very old man came to the village 
as a rejiresentative from one of the tribes, and wishing to make me a present 
and ha.ving nothing else to give me, took from his neck a string of bones 
cut in the fi)rm of their gods, and assured me they wore the bones of his 
grandmother. 

In religion these people are mere children ; their morais are their baby- 
houses, and their gods are their dolls. I have seen Gattanewa with all his 
sous, and many others sitting for hours together clajiping their hands and 
singing before a number of little wooden gods laid out in small houses erec- 
ted for the occasion, and ornamented with strips of cloth ; they were such 
houses as a child would have made, of about two feet long and eighteen 
inches high, and no less than ten or twelve of them in a cluster like a small 
vill.age ; by the side of this were several canoes, furnished with their pad- 
dles, seines, harpoons, and other fishing ajjparatus, and round the whole a 
line was drawn to show that the place was tabooed ; within this line was 
Gattanewa and others, like overgrown babies, singing and clapping their 
hands, sometimes laughing and talking, and appeared to give their ceremony 
no attention ; he asked me if the place was not very fine ; and it was on 
this occasion that he tabooed me, in order to give me an opportunity of 
apjwoaching the gods and examining them more closely. The whole cere- 
mony of tabooing me consisted in taking a piece of white cloth from the 
hole through his ear, and tying it around my hat as a band : I wore this 
badge for several days, and simple as it was, every one I passed would call 
oui taho'o, and avoid touching me. I inquired the cause of this ceremony of 
Gattanewa, and he told me he was going to catch tortoise for the gods, and 
that he should have to pray to them several days and nights for success, 
during which time he should be tabooed and dare not enter a house fre- 
quented by W'Omen. 

Tattooing among these people is performed by means of a machine made 
of bone something like a comb with the teeth only on one side ; the points 
of the teeth are rubbed with a black paint made of burnt cocoa-nut shell 
ground to powder, and mixed with water ; this is struck into the flesli by 
means of a heavy piece of wood which serves the purpose of a hammer ; 
the operation is extremely painful and streams of blood follow every blow, 
yet pride induces them to bear this torture, and they even suffer themselves 
to be tied down while the operation is performing in order that tl.oir agony 
may not interrupt the operator. The men commence tattooing as soon as 
tlioy are able to bear the pain ; they begin at the age of eighteen or nineteen 



OF AMERICANS. 355 

and are rarely completely tattooed until they arrive at the age of thirty- 
five. The women begin about the same age ; they have only their legs, 
arms, and hands tattooed — which is done with extraordinary neatness and 
delicacy — and some slight lines drawn across their lips. It is also the prac- 
tice with some to have the inside of their lips tattooed, but the object of 
this oraament I could never find out, as it is never seen unless they turn out 
their lips to show it. Every tribe in the island, I observed, were tattooed 
after a different fashion, and I was informed that every line had its meaning, 
and gave to the bearer certain privileges at their fea.sts. This practice of 
tattooing sometimes occasions sores which fester and are several weeks before 
they heal ; it however never produces any serious consequences, or leaves 
any scars behind. 

On the 9th December I had all my provisions, wood, and water on board, 
my decks filled with hogs, and a most abundant supply of cocoa-nuts and 
bananas, with which we had been furnished by the liberality of our Nooa- 
heevan friends, who had reserved for us a stock of dried cocoa-nuts, suita- 
ble for taking to sea, and were calculated for keeping three or four months. 

I now found it necessary to stop the liberty I had heretofore given to my 
peojjle, and directed that every person should remain on board and work 
latp and early to hasten the departure of the ship ; but three of my crew 
determined on having a parting kiss, and to obtain it, swam on shore at 
night ; they were caught on the beach and brought to me. I immediatelj- 
caused them to be confined in irons, and determined to check any farther 
disobedience of mj- orders by the most exemplary punishment. I next 
morning caused them to be punished severely at the gangway, and set them 
to work in chains with my prisoners : this severity excited some discon- 
tent and murmurings among the crew, but it effectually prevented a recur- 
rence. 

Nooaheevah had many charms for a sailor, and had part of my crew felt 
disposed to remain there, I knew they would not absent themselves until the 
moment before my departure. This affair had, however, like to have ended 
seriously ; my crew did not see the same motives for restraint as myself, 
they had long been indulged, and they thought it now hard to be deprived 
of their usual liberty : one kiss now was worth a thousand at any other 
time ; they were restless, discontented, and unhappy. The girls lined the 
beach from morning until night, and every moment importuned me to take 
the taboos off the men, and laughingly expressed their grief by dipping their 
fingers into the sea and touching their ej-es, so as to let the salt water trickle 
down their cheeks. Others would seize a chip, and holding it in the manner 
of a shark's tooth, declared they would cut themselves to pieces in despair ; 
some threatened to beat their brains out with a spear of grass, some to dro» n 
themselves, and all were determined to inflict on themselves some dreadful 
punishment if I did not permit their sweethearts to come on shore. The men 
did not bear it with so much good humor: their situation, they said, was 
worse than slavery." 

On the 12th Commodore Porter, having the Essex and Essex Junior ready 

for sea, sailed for the coast of South America to cruise against the enemy. 

Previous to leaving he had the remainder of the prizes warped in under the 

guns of the fort. The command of the fort was given to Lieutenant Gara- 

23 



356 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMEXTS 

ble, of the marines, who had under him Messers. Feltus and Clapp, two of the 
midshipmen, and twenty-one men. Captain Porter's object in leaving these 
vessels was to secure the means of future repairs to his ships, and to avoid 
an unnecessary detention, he gave Lieutenant Gamble orders to leave the 
island in five and a half months if he should not hear from him in the 
meantime. 

The Essex had no sooner disappeared than the savages began to show a 
turbulent disposition. This was for the time quieted. Soon after one of 
the men was drowned and four deserted in a whaleboat. In April a part of 
the men mutinied and sailed away in the Seringapatam. In Ma\- the natives 
attacked them and killed midshipman Feltus and three of the men and 
severely wounded another. The whole party was now reduced to eight in- 
dividuals of whom only four were fit for duty. With these Mr. Gamble got 
to sea in the Sir Andrew Hammond and went into the Sandwich islands 
where he was soon after captured by the Cherub. He there learned the fate 
of the Essex, which on the last of March, after a bloody and long sustained 
battle with the British ships Phoebe and Cherub, in the neutral harbor of 
Valparaiso, had surrendered. The action had been fought under great dis- 
advantages with a far superior force of the enemy, and with a bravery that 
reflected great credit upon Captain Porter : indeed he refused to surrender 
imtil his principal officers, and more than OEe half of his crew, had been 
killed or wounded. Just before going into the action a squall of wind had 
carried away the main topmast of the Essex, so that Captain Porter could 
not maneuver his vessel. She therefore lay completely in the power of 
the enemy who could choose his own position and distance and with his 
guns of longer reach pour in the shot upon his crippled antagonlstj without 
the latter having the shadow of a chance of a successful defense. 

Thus terminated this enterprising and singular cruise. Its end was as 
disastrous as its commencement had been fortunate ; and its whole history 
was romantic and highly creditable to the spirit, resources and self-reliance of 
the master mind who originated and carried it into execution. 

Captain Porter was a native of Boston, Massachusetts, where he was bom 
in 1780, so that at the time of starting on this eventful cruise he was but 
thirty-two years of age. On the termination of the war in 1815 he was 
appointed a naval commissioner, and performed the duties of that office 
until 1821. Subsequently, in relation to au insult offered the American 
flag at Forado, in Porto Eico, of which he was cognizant, he obliged the 
authorities of the place to make a due apology. He had no orders to do so ; 
and consequently was suspended for six mouths by a courl>raartial. He 
thereupon resigned his commission and joined the Mexican navy. In 1829, 
President Jackson appointed him minister to Constantinople, where he 
rendered his country most valuable aid, in the formation of treaties. He 
died in 1843, at the age of sixty-three years. 

Captain Porter was the author of the celebrated motto, " Free Trade and 
Sailor's P.ights." On his return from his celebrated cruise, he was every- 
where received with the highest honors. Congress and the several States 
gave him a vote of thanks, and by universal acclamation he was called "the 
Hero of Oie Pacific" 



THE WISE AND HEROIC CONDUCT 



J E II U 1) I AS II M U N : 

is SHOWN IN SAVINO FROM DESTRUCTION AND IN ESTABLISHING ON A FIRM BASIS 

THE AMERICAN COLONY OF LIBERIA. 



Among the subjects that have attracted the consideration of statesmen and 
philanthropists of our time, that of African Colonization has been conspic- 
uous. Many of our ablest and purest men have regarded this as the only 
practicable means to effect the ultimate regeneration of a degraded class of 
our population ; and also as the mode by which the whole continent of 
Africa will eventually have opened to it the blessings of Christian civiliza- 
tion. 

Among those names connected with the early history of the American 
colony of Liberia, is that of .Jchudi Ashmun. ' He it was that in its darkest 
hour saved it from utter extermination, and by the exercise of masterly 
abilities in his .igcncy of six years' duration, gained the reputation of having 
been one of the most remarkable of men. In the midst of the varying cir- 
cumstances of difficulty and danger, he exhibited most consfiicuously every 
variety of quality and talent that could be called for — military skill and 
courage, political sagacity and address, all of which were united to such a 
spirit of self-sacrifice that finally his life became the forfeit of his devotion. 

Mr. Ashmun, was born in April, X794, in Champlain, New York. His 
parents were respectable people in moderate circumstances. He was edu- 
cated at the University of Vermont, and for a while wa-s a Professor of Class- 
ical Literature in a Theological Seminary at Hampden, in Maine. He aLo 
received a license to preach. 

The subject of foreign mi-ssions had taken a deep hold of his thoughts 
and it was his ultimate design to devote his life to that department of labor. 
The elements of intellectual strength are generally mingled in the human 
character with ardent feelings and powerful passions. The talents which 
render men capable of great and noble actions, may, if perverted, cover them 
with all the di.<grace and infamy of crime. Ashmun was naturally self- 
confident, proud, ambitious. His imagination was warm, his passions ardent, 
his sensibility extreme. His religious sentiments at this time, were deeply 
tinged with a romantic enthusiasm. In allusion to this period, he some 
years after observed : "My genius ami habits, much of the time, were de- 
cidedly of the a.scetic cast. I determined not only to forsake the gay, but 

<357) 



:J58 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

even the civilized world, nnd spend my life among distant savages. And 
from long dwelling on this prospect, and naturally directing my inquiries 
and reading by it, I came to acquire a passion for the sacrifice." 

Ashmun eventually moved to Washington City, where he took charge 
of the Theological Repertory, a monthly puUication, the only one of a re- 
ligious character then published south of New York. The capacity he evinced 
as editor at once gained the attention of leading minds, especially as shown 
in an elaborate review of the second Annual Ilei>ort of the American Col- 
onization Society. 

The introduction to this Review is in the following words : 
"Never perhaps, in the history of man, has an object affording equal 
scope for the exercise of Christian benevolence, been found capable of en- 
gaging in its support such a compass and variety of powerful motives as 
that of the American Colonization Society. Though in itself Itis object is 
simple and definite, and to superficial observation, of limited and even 
questionable utility, the beneficial consequences of its success (/radually un- 
fold to the mind, on a rational investigation of its nature, and may be traced 
tip to the highest pitch of moral magnificence." 

"It is an opinion," he farther along adds, "which we believe is bui't on 
incontestible grounds, that an African colony in order to answer any benevolent 
design, must have for its basis the promotion of the Christian religion— first 
within the colony itself, and subsequently by means of the colony among the 
contiguous tribes." From this period, the subject of African colonization 
engrossed the thoughts of Ashmun, and ho devoted all his leisure to the pre- 
paration of the life of Rev. Samuel Bacon, one of the pioneers in that cause. 
The work w-hen issued was judged a production of signal ability ; but it 
failed in a mercantile sense, and, in connection with the want of patronage 
for the Repertory, involved him in pecuniary embarrassments. The periodical 
also failed through mismanagement and other causes over which he had no 
control. In settling the aftairs of the Repertory suspicions became attached 
to him, which the busy tongue of detraction was not slow to reiterate. Few 
conditions are more perplexing to a noble, sensitive mind than now became 
his. He was awakened from every bright dream of the future, by the calls 
of importunate creditors to satisfy delinquencies for the past. Friends, too, 
began to desert him, and looked upon him with reproachful disappointment 
at not coming up to their expectations ; for, meritorious so ever as one's ef- 
forts may be, so Winded is the public generally, that it judges only of merit 
by success. Reserved both by inclination and habit on matters of private 
concern, he perhaps sometimes was silent, when he should have made ex- 
planation ; and while acting in his integrity, forgot w-hat discretion would 
have dictated, as due to the opinions of others. But he bowed his head to 
no useless sorrow. He was calm, uncomplaining, and active. He knew 
that to seek sympathy, is generally to lose in respect more than is gained 
in compassion; and that for a wounded spirit, the only remedy is divine. 
No mortal eye can penetrate those deep and secret places of the heart, 
where griefs spring up and are nourished from the very fountains of life. 

As introductory to the new and important field in which the abilities of 
Ashmun shone so conspicuously, we give a sketch of the origin and progress 
of the Colony of Liberia to the period when his history became merged in it. 



OF AMERICANS. 35;) 

Dr. Fothcrgill, a member of the Society of Frieiids in EnylanJ, first sug- 
gested, aud GruuviUe Sharp first executed the project of colouizhig free meu 
of color in Africa, by fouiidiiig, in 1787, the Colony of Sierra Leone. The 
same year the philanthropic Dr. \Vm. Thornton of Washington proposed to 
conduct a company of free colored emigrants from the United States to 
Africa, but circumstances beyond his control frustrated his design. The 
subject was discussed in the Legislature of Virginia early in the present 
century, aud the General Government requested by that body to aid in the 
selection aud acquisition of territory adapted to the purposes of the con- 
templated colony. 

But the establishment of the American Colonization Society resulted less 
from political motives, than froni Christian benevolence. Long before the 
formation of the Colonization Society, there were generous souls in Virginiii, 
and probably in other parts of the South, touched with a tender and all'ecting 
charity toward the people of color. And in a future world the fact may 
stand revealed, that from the sacred retirements of a few devout ladies in 
Virginia, emanated a spirit of zeal and charity in behalf of the afflicted 
Africans, which has widely spread ; inspired ministers and statesmen with 
an almost divine eloquence in their cause. 

The .\merican Colonization Society was founded in Washington City, in 
December, 1816. The patriotic and pious from various parts of the country, 
united in its organization. Among the original members of this society 
were Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, John Randolph, and others of the most 
eminent statesmen from all parts of our country, Xorth and South. They 
could not close their eyes upon these prominent facts : 

That the slavery of two millions of colored persons in the Southern por- 
tion of this Union was under the exclusive control and legislation of the 
slaveholding States — each having the sole right of regulating it within its 
own limits. 

That the two hundred thousand colored persons scattered throughout the 
Union and legally free, enjoyed few of the advantages of freedom. 

That there were powerful causes operating to frustrate all efibrts to ele- 
vate very considerably men of color in this country, which could not exist 
to prevent their elevation in a separate community from the whites. 

That the success of any measures for the good of this race, must depend 
in a great degree upon the union of the wise and pious from every State 
and section of the country. 

That Africa was inhabited by fifty to one hundred millions of uncivil- 
ized aud heathen men, and that to render, as far as practicable, the elevation 
of her exiled children conducive to the deliverance and salvation of her 
home population, was required alike by philanthropy and piety. 

In view of these facts, what humanity and benevolence to the colored 
race suggested, was embodied in the constitution of the American Coloniz- 
ation Society. It was expected that the operations of this Society, would 
unfetter and invigorate the faculties, improve the circumstances, animate the 
hopes aud enlarge the usefulness of the free people of color ; that by 
awakening thought, nullifying objections, presenting motives convincing to 
the judgment, and persuasive to the humanity of masters, they would en- 
<x)urage emancipation; that in Africa their results would be seen, in civil- 



360 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

ized and Christian communities ; in the substitution of a lawful and bene- 
ficial commerce for the abominable slave trade ; of peaceful agriculture for 
a predatory warfare ; knowledge for ignorance ; the arts that refine for vices 
that detrade ; and for superstitions vile, cruel and bloodstained, the en- 
nobliii"- service and pure worship of the true God. It was believed that the 
fellowship of the North with the South, in African colonization would tend 
powerfully to produce just opinions on the subject of slavery, and prepare 
for the removal of the evil without endangering the integrity and peace 
of the Union. 

In the year 1818, the American Colonization Society sent out as agents 
Messrs. Ebenezer Burgess and Samuel G. Mills, to ascertain if suitable terri- 
tory could 1)6 obtained on the western coast of Africa for the proposed colony. 
They visited Sierra Leone, the Gambia and Sherbro, and their report encou- 
raged the Society to proceed in its enterprise. Mr. Mills died on the return 
voyage. 

In 1820, the first band of colonists of the Society sailed for the coast of 
Africa. It consisted of eighty-eight emigrants under the charge of Eev. 
Sam'l Bacon, J. P. Bankson and Dr. S. A. Crozier, as agents. They landed 
on the Island of Sherbro, where, in the course of a few weeks, the climate and 
exposure brought on a disease by which all the agents and one quarter of 
the emigrants perished. Early the next year, 1821, the second expedition 
was sent out with a small number of emigrants who remained at Sierra 
Leone until suitable land should be obtained for the site of the intended 
colonv. They were joined there by the surviving emigrants of the preced- 
ing year. Finally, by great skill and perseverance, a valuable tract of land 
was obtained of the native chiefs, including Cape Montserado, as a site for 
the first settlement. This purchase was made by Capt. Eobt. F. Stockton 
of the U. S. Navy, and Dr. Eli Ayres, the chief agent of the Colonization 
Society. The colonists, in the beginning of the next year, removed from 
Sierra Leone to a small and unhealthy island on the mouth of Montserado 
Eiver. The natives evinced much duplicity and a determination, if possible, 
to expel them from the country. In a contest with them, the storehouse 
took fire and most of the provisions and utensils of the colony were de- 
stroyed. In July of this year, 1822, the little band, having endured great 
trials and hardships, were enabled entirely to abandon the island and plant 
themselves beneath their own humble dwellings in the Cape. At this period 
their agent. Dr. Ayres, had been compelled to depart for the United States? 
leaving the colonists in charge of one of their own number as a general 
superintendent. Few and destitute, and exposed to the treachery of savage 
foes, far away from the abodes of civilized men, this feeble company pa- 
tiently awaited the arrival of those aids and supplies which their necessities 
demanded. 

Such was the condition of affairs, when Mr. Ashmun, accompanied by his 
wife, arrived at Cape Montserado, in Liberia, early in August of this year 
(1822). He was at this period in his twenty-ninth year. He had been 
sent out in the brig Strong, chartered by the managers of the Colonization 
Society, in charge of fifty-three emigrants ; eighteen of these were native Afri- 
cans, who having been stolen from their own country, had been delivered over 
to the Society to return them to their native soil. Ills instructions were thai 



OF AMEraCANS. 301 

in case lie sliouUl return in tli« brig to report llio coniKiion and jirospects 
of the colony ; but that if Dr. Ayres was absent, ho should remain and tem- 
porarily asaumo the duties of agent. Finding that Dr. Ayros had loft, 
Ashmun remained and took charge of the colony, lie summoned all his 
energies, sm-veyed rapidly the field of labor, and deferred not an hour the 
commencement of his work. 

It is believed Mr. Ashmun was impelled to leave his country, rather by a 
desire to realize from commercial operations, the means of discharging heavy 
debts, which, should ho continue in America, he saw it impossible soon to pay, 
than by any expectation of occupying the station which Providence destined 
him to fill with such distinguished honor and success. That he felt for the 
cause of African Colonization an ardent aflection, and hoped essentially to 
promote it, is certain. But his thoughts were directed to a plan of exten- 
sive trade, which he imagined might prove of some advantage to himself, 
while it contributed to conciliate and civilize the Africans, and to augment 
the resources and facilitate all the operations of the Society. The informa- 
tion he would obtain by a visit to the African coast, must, he concluded, 
enable him to judge of proper measures for efl'ecting his object ; and on his 
return, all the details of the jilan might be satisfactorily adjusted with the 
various parties concerned. He regarded the scheme probably at the time of 
his departure, as something of an advenlure, since it does not appear that, 
ho had submitted it to the consideration of the managers of the Society. 

Cape Montserado, elevated from seventy-five to eighty feet above the sea, 
forms the abrupt termination of a narrow tongue of land, in length thirty- 
six miles, and from one and a half to three miles in breadth ; bounded on 
the south-west by the ocean, and on the north-east by the llivers Mont- 
serado and Junk. 

The site chosen for the original settlement (.now Monrovia Liberia), is 
two miles from the point of the Cape. This site, and a large portion of the 
peninsula, was covered W'ith a lofty and dense forest, entangled with vines 
and brushwood ; the haunts of savage boasts, and through which the bar- 
barians were accustomed to cut their narrow and winding pathways to the 
coast. When Mr. Ashmun arrived, a small spot had been cleared, and about 
thirty houses constructed in a native style. The rainy season was at its 
height ; the public property had been chiefly consumed by fire ; some of 
the settlers already on the ground, wore but imperfectly sheltered ; and for 
those just arrived, no preparation had been made ; the settlement Ijad no 
adequate means of defense, while the chiefs of the country could no longer 
conceal their hostile designs. The wliole population of the settlement, in- 
cluding the emigrants by the Strong, did not exceed one hundred and thirty; 
of whom thirty-five only were cap.iblo of bearing arms. A comjirehensive 
system of operations was immediately commenced, to relieve the wants and 
improve the condition of the infant colony, and aflord security ag;iinst llio 
dangers to which it was exposed. 

As hostile demonstrations soon became manifest, the colonists prepared to 
fortify themselves. Within a few days after the arrival of Mr. Ashmun, a 
fortified tower was plainied and commenced, and a particular survey taken 
of the military strength and means of the settlers. Of the native Americans, 
twenty-seven, when not sick, were able to bear arms ; but they were wholly 



ZC,-2 ADVENTURKS AND ACIIIEVEMKNTS 

untrained to their u.<e, and eaiiable, in their jirosont undisciplined state, of 
making but a vcr}' feeble defense indeed. It was soon perceived that the means 
as well as an organized system of defense were to lie originated, without either 
the materials or the artificers usually considered necessary for such purposes. 

The little town was closely environed, except on the side of the river, 
with the heavy forest in the bosom of which it was situated — thus giving 
to a savage enemy an important advantage of which it became absolutely 
necessary to deprive him, by enlarging to the utmost, the cleared space 
about the buildings. This labor was immediately undertaken, and carried 
on without any other intermission, than that caused by sickness of the people, 
and the interruption of other duties equally connected with the safety of 
tile place. But the rains were immoderate and nearly constant. 

In addition to these fatiguing labors, was that of maintaining the nightly 
watch ; — which, from the number of sentinels necessary for the common 
safety, shortly became more exhausting than all the other burdens of the 
people. No less than twenty individuals were every night detailed for this 
duty, after the 31st of August. 

On the 25th of August, Mr. Ashmun experienced the first attack of fever. 
Sickness soon commenced among the company of recent emigrants, and 
prevailed so rapidly, that on the 10th of September, of the whole number, 
only two remained in health. Mr. Ashmun was enabled to maintain a dif- 
ficult struggle with his disorder, for four weeks ; in which period, after a 
night of delirium and suffering, it was not an unusual circumstance for him 
to be able to spend an entire morning in laying off and directing the eKecu- 
tion of the public works. About the first of September, the intercourse 
between the settlement and the people of the country had nearly ceased. 

Mrs. Ashmun was prostrated, by a far more serious attack than the one 
experienced by her husband. Protected from the rain only by a thatched 
roof, "on a couch, literally dripping with water," that devoted young wife 
continued to sink under the most malignant of fevers, until the 15th of Sep- 
tember, when she expired. It was in November before Ashmun sufficiently 
recovered to resume his labors. He soon learned that the chiefs were still 
secretly plotting the destruction of the colony. They met in war council, 
and while some few of them were friendly to the colonists, the voices of the 
majority prevailed, and it was resolved to exterminate them. Through a 
friendly chief, Ashmun was informed of all their movements and designs. 
He informed the belligerents, that he was apiprised of their wishes, and that 
if they persisted in their hostile plans, they w'ould learn what it was to 
make war with Americans. 

On the 7th of November, word was brought him that a combined attack 
would be made upon the settlement within four days. No time was to be 
lost. Kverything was done to put their forces in a posture of defense, and 
to inspirit the men that could be. "A coward," exclaimed Ashmun, "it was 
hoped did not disgrace their ranks ; and as the cause was emphatically that 
of God and their country, they might confidently expect His blessing and 
success, to attend the faithful discharge of their duty." On the 8th an exam- 
ination by Mr. Ashmun of their locality showed that a path to their fortifi- 
cation, had been overlooked, and thus an avenue of attack was afforded their 
■enemies. Men were instantly posted along it, and instructed to keep vigilant 



OF AMERICAXS. 3(J3 

walch. On SuiuLiy, the 10th, the colonists assembled for worship. A mossen- 
i;er broke in upon their devotions, with the tidings that llie enemy, in lull 
force, had crossed Montserado River, and were actually witliin a few miles of 
them. That night these men slept on their arms. The watch was instructed 
to keep their posts till sun-riso ; but, in defiance of orders, the picket- 
guard left their station at early dawn. The consequences almost proved 
fatal. They had no sooner deserted their jjlaccs than the enemy came upon 
them. They fired a volley of musketry, at the distance of Ki.\ty paces, shot 
down several of the colonists, and then rushed forward with spear in hand to 
take possession of the post. Some out-houses, and their contents fell into the 
enemy's hand.s. This proved most fortunate. For, bent on plunder, the na- 
tives, instead of following up their success, turned aside to ransack the 
building.s, which aQ'orded the colonists time to recover from their surprise and 
prepare for action. They seized their guns and poured upon the natives a 
rakiu'^, murderous fire. The savages began soon to recoil, and the colonists 
re<'ained the western post that had fallen into the enemy's hand, in the be- 
ginning of the action, when they brought a long nine-pounder to rake the 
whole line of the enemy. Imagination can scarcely figure to itself a throng 
of human beings in a more capital state of exposure to the destructive power 
of the machinery of modern warfare ! Eight hundred men were here in 
line, shoulder to shoulder, iu so compact a form that a child might easily 
walk upon their heads from one end of the mass to the other, presenting in 
their rear a breadth of rank equal to twenty or thirty men, and all exposed 
to a gun of great power, raised on a platform, at only thirty to sixty yards 
distance ! Every shot literally spent its force in a solid mass of living hu- 
man flesh ! Their fire suddenly terminated. A savage yell was raised, 
which filled the dismal forest with a momentary horror. It gradually died 
away ; and the whole host disappeared. 

On the part of the settlers, it wa.s soon discovered that considerable in- 
jury had been sustained. One woman who had imprudently passed the 
ni^ht in the house first beuet by the enemy, had received thirteen wounds, 
and been thrown aside as dead. Another, flying from her house with her 
two infant children, received a wound in the head, from a cutlass, and was 
robbed of both her babes ; but providentially escaped. A young married 
woman, with the mother of five small children, finding the house in which 
they slept surrounded by savage enemies, barricaded the door, in the vain 
hope of safety. It was forced. Each of the women then seizing an axe, 
held the irresolute barbarians in check for several minutes longer. Having 
discharged their guns, they seemed desirous of gaining the shelter of the 
house previous to reloading. At length, with the aid of their spears, and 
by means of a general rush, they overcame their heroine adversaries, and 
instantly stabbed the youngest to the heart. The mother, instinctively 
springing for her suckling babe, which recoiled through fright, and was left 
behind, rushed through a small window on the opposite side of the house, 
and fortunately gained the lines, unhurt, between two heavy fires. 

It never has been possible to ascertain the number of the enemy killed 
or disabled on this oeca.sion ; but it is estimated to have been about one 
hundred and fifty. Tlie olTensive eflluvium from the numerous dead bodies 
in the adjacent forest soon became intolerable. 



304 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

Though victorious, they were by no means in an enviable position. Im- 
mediately after the action, their intrenchmonts were compressed, so as not 
to embrace so much area of ground, but to admit of greater concentration 
of their forces. This being done, they began to reflect upon their condition. 
It was deplorable enough — shut out from all help, in the midst of a nu- 
merous and barbarous people, and destitute of means either to advance or 
to recede. Then, too, what were they to do for provisions ? Tlicy had not 
two weeks' supply. Amid this gloom and depres.sion, a day of thanksgiving 
and prayer was appointed and scrupulously observed. In this severe strait, 
relief for their most pressing wants was afforded by a small purchase 
from a Liverpool vessel that happened to touch at the Cape. 

Exasperated by their recent defeat, the natives combined in greater force 
for another attack. Early on the morning of the 2d, the works were again 
attacked simultaneously on both sides with great fury, when a few rapid, 
well-aimed discharges of artillery drove them back in confusion and dismay. 
In another quarter they rallied for the assault. To shield themselves from 
the guns, they fell flat on their faces, behind some projecting rocks, and 
large ant hills. Then suddenly they arose and again rushed to the charge. 
This was repeated several times, with disastrous results to themselves. No 
sooner did they become exposed than they fell in heaps, by the balls of the 
guns. They then filed around an eminence, with a view of attacking the south- 
ern posts which were undefended. Their design was discovered, and the 
colonists immediately occupied that station. Soon as the enem_v came in 
full view, their guns were opened upon them with the same efi'ect as before, 
and they at length gave way on all sides. Thus, the colonists were again 
■victorious. They lost several valuable men, however, in the action. Ash- 
mun himself had several balls through his clothes, but was not hurt. 

The natives showed great skill and bravery in this attack ; their plan of 
assault was the very best that they could have devised. It was certainly 
sustained and renewed with a resolution that would not disgrace the best 
disciplined troops. But they were not fully apprised of the power of well 
served artillerj'. Xone of the kings of this part of the coast are without 
cannon. But to load a great gun, is with them the business of half an hour, 
and they were seriously disposed to attribute to sorcery the art of charging 
and firing these destructive machines from four to six times in the minute. 

The result of this action disheartened the foe, and animated for a moment 
the hopes of the colonists. But the situation of the latter was most dis- 
tressing. The small number, still more reduced — no aid near- — provisions 
scanty, so that for six weeks they had been on an allowance of meat and 
bread ; the sufferings of the wounded, relieved by little surgical knowledge, 
less skill and no proper instruments, indescribable ; and on an equal distri- 
bution of the shot among the guns, not three rounds remaining to each ! 
" We cried unto God," .says Mr. Ashmun, " to send us aid, or i^repare us, and 
the Society at home, for the heaviest earthly calamity we could dread." 

On the following night, an officer at one of the stations, alarmed by some 
movement in the vicinity, discharged several muskets and large guns, and 
this circumstance was the means of bringing relief to the almost despair- 
ing settlement. 

The British colonial schooner, Prince Hegent, laden with military stores, 



OF AMERICANS. 365 

and having on board Major Laing, the oelcbratod African traveler, with p 
prize crew commaiuled bj- Midshipman Gordon, and eleven seamen of his 
British majesty's sloop-of-\var Driver, was at this time passing the Cape, on 
her way to Cape Coast Castle, when her ofSccrs, arrested by the sound of 
cannon at midnight from the shore, resolved to ascertain the cause of so ex- 
traordinary a circumstance. No sooner did they learn the truth, und be- 
hold a little company of brave men contending for their lives against the 
leagued forces of nearly every barbarous tribe on that part of the coast, than 
they generously offered all the aid in tlieir power. By the influence of 
Captain Laing, the chiefs were bound to a truce, and to refer all matters of 
difierence between them and the colony, to the judgment of the Governor 
of Sierra Leone ; while Midshipman Gordon, with eleven seamen, voluntarily 
consented to remain, and see that the agreement was preserved inviolate. 
As the chiefs had no just grounds of complaint, the provision for a reference 
was never afterward recollected. The Prince Regent left at the colony a 
supply of ammunition, and took her departure on the 4th of December. 
From that hour the foundations of the colony were laid in a firm and last- 
ing PEACE. • 

And who was he, that "single lolute man," on that distant forest-clad 
shore, unbroken in spirit, though bowed beneath the heavy hand of sorrow 
and sickness, casting fear to the wind.s, directing and heading bj- day and 
night, a feeble, undiscijilined, dejected, unfortified band of thirty-five emi- 
grants, against whom the very elements seemed warring, while a thousand 
to fifteen hnndrcd armed savages were rushing to destroy them ? Who was 
he, that, in reliance on God for wisdom and might, imparted such skill and 
coura^'e to this little comjiany, — so ordered every plan and guided every 
movement, that the fierce foe retired panic .struck before them, and they 
stood rescued and redeemed from impending destruction ? 

Was he a veteran soldier, iinired to danger, familiar with suffering, and 
bred amid scenes of battle and blood ? Was lie there adorned by badges of 
military honor, conscious of a rejiutation won by deeds of " high emprise," 
and stimulated to valor by hopes of glory and fears of disgrace ? 

Tliat was no tried, no ambitious soldier. He was a young man, bred to 
letters, of retired habits, educated for the ministry of Christ, unknown to 
fame, — the victim of disa])pointinent, burdened with debt, and touched by 
undeserved reproach, lie had visited Africa in hoiie of obtaining the means 
of doing jnstice to his creditors ; and impelled by Humanity and Religion, 
had consented, without any fixed compensation, to give, should they be re- 
quired, his services to the color.y. He found it in peril of extinction. He 
hesitated not. He failed not to redeem his jjledge. He gatliered strength 
from difficulty, and motive from danger. No thronging and admiring spec- 
tators cheered him ; no glorious pomp and circumstance were there to throw 
a brightness and a beauty even upon the features and terrors of death. Ho 
stood strong in duty, covered by the shield of Faith. His frame shaken by 
disease ; the partner of his life struck down by his side ; amid tlio groans 
of the afflicted and in the shadow of Hope's dim eclipse, he planned and 
executed, with the ability of the bravest and most experienced general, 
measures which saved the settlement, atid secured for I^ibcrty and Chris- 
tianity, a perpetual home and heritage in Africa. 



300 ADVEXTUKES AND ACHIKVEMEXTS 

The agitations of this sanguinary conflict, were succeedeJ by the ravages 
of disease and the gloom of death. Within four weeks from the time of 
the departure of the I'rince Regent, the graves were closed over Midshijimau 
Gordon and eight out of the eleven seamen who remained with him. The 
conduct of these generous Englishmen, deserves to be remembered forever. 
Hardly had they stepped on the African shore, to assist a few humble, dis- 
tressed, but brave men, to whom they were bound only by the common ties 
of humanity, from whom they could e.xpect no reward, and who might have 
perished almost unobserved, when they fell, and were borne in the arms and 
amid the lamentations of those whom they came to relieve, to the place of 
the dead. 

Mr. Ashmun's health being injured by excessive exertion, about the 16th 
of December he relapsed into a slow, constant fever, which at first resisted 
all ordinary remedies, and left hiui no hope of recovery. As a last resort, a 
strong potion was administered in which was a large spoonful of calomel. 
A distressing salivation ensued when the fever left him. 

It was in the middle of February before Ashmun was able to resume tho 
active duties of his station. He saw that every possible exertion was re- 
quired to prepare for the approaching season of rains. With the exception 
of the store-house, there was but one shingled roof and frame house in the 
settlement. Many of the cabins were without floors, covered with thatch, 
affording but an imperfect shelter. The war had for months occupied 
wholly the attention of the colonists, and deranged all their habits of in- 
dustry and private afl'airs. 

" We long," said Mr. Ashmun at this time in a letter to the board, " for 
an arrival from home. Our provisions are short ; but we have some tobacco, 
and the country abounds in cattle, goats, fowls and vegetables, which tobacco, 
will always buy in almost any quantities. Our last barrel of salted pro- 
visions is to be opened next Saturday. But we do not complain. God has 
not, and will not fail to be our provider. I have only to regret, that the 
war has put back our improvements nearly or quite a whole year. But I 
firmly believe the work of fighting is over, and that future emigi-ants will 
enjoy without molestation, all the fruits of their industry." To the secre- 
tary of the Society, on the 20th of February, he wrote : — " Divine Provi- 
dence has, since my last, been gradually dispersing the clouds which then 
overhung us. My health is nearly restored. I stand a monument of God's 
mercy, and behold the graves of fifteen white persons around me ; all of 
whom have died since I lauded on the Cape." 

On the 5th of March, he wrote, — " I have said, in several letters, that I 
Ownght myself recovering. But I am now convinced that, in this climate, it 
is vain to expect to recover the health I enjoyed in America : certainly im- 
possible for nu, in my present situation, to be anything else but a sick man. 
It is not my nature to complain with too much facility. Cut think you 
see a young man formed for society, separated almost entirely from the civ- 
ilized and Christian world; his constitution broken with a fever of six months; 
his only earthly comforter snatched away ; mingling for months together 
his own groans and sighs with those of the sick, wounded, and dying ; al- 
most for weeks together pained with the sight of the corpses of the whites 
who had undertaken to reside here for our protection ; the complaints of tho 



OF AMERICANS. "C? 

colonists, a statement of their wants, tlieir application for a thousand things 
with which it is impossible to supply them, constantly presenting them- 
selves ; every public work to be planned and superintended ; the move- 
ments of the natives to be closely watched, and their hostile designs to be pro- 
vided against ; provision made by trade, etc., for the subsistence of tho 
people ; for their shelter against the approaching rains ; and a ceaseless 
anxiety to lay the foundation of the colony in a way that will not be de- 
trimental to its future prosperity ; the books to be kept and correspondence 
carried on ; think, of all this falling upon an individual, and say, can he 
recover his wonted health of body or strength of mind ? I might go on 
enumerating other causes of my feeble and crazy state of health, but it ia 
painful to have said what I have." 

An account of the suffering state of the settlement, from the pen of Mr. 
Ashmun, in tho Sion-a Leone Gazette, with information derived from other 
sources, induced the commander of the Cyanc, Captain Robert Trail Spence, 
though his health was impaired, and his crew enfeebled by a cruise of twelve 
months in the West Indies, to adopt efficient measures for the relief and 
safety of tho colony. 

He saw the importance of leaving an armed vessel on the coast, and by 
the most energetic exertion, the hull of an old, abandoned schooner, the Au- 
gustine, was fitted for sea and manned by a crew of twelve men, under Lieut. 
Dashicll, to guard this coast, and render the colony every possible aid in 
any exigency. Capt. Spence, on his arrival with the C_vane, directed a large 
portion of his crew to assist for twenty days in the building of an ammuni- 
tion house for the agent, and a stone fortress. In the midst of his benevo- 
lent exertions, the fever attacked his men so fiercely that he was obliged to 
abandon the colonists, and the surgeon of his ship, Dr. Dix, and forty of his 
men, fell victims to the deadly climate. 

Mr. Richard Seaton, the first clerk of the Cyane, consented, with the 
approbation of Captain Spence, to remain as assistant to Mr. Ashmun, who 
saw, that alone and with health impaired, it was impossible to fulfill the nu- 
merous and arduous duties of the agency. 

On the 21st of April, Mr. Ashmun, " worn down with cares and fatigue," 
having organized the laboring force, and obtained the consent of Mr. Seaton 
to superintend the public works, sailed in the Augusta for Settra Kroo, two 
hundred miles south-eastward, for the purpose of conveying thither fort_v 
Kroomen (wlio had given throe weeks' labor for their passage), and concil- 
iating the regards of the native chiefs of the country. During his absence 
of twenty-one days, nothing escaped his observation; he examined the fea- 
tures of tho coast, visited and ascertained the dispositions of several tribes, 
and hiving engaged twenty-fiv^ Kroomen as laborers, and made some pur- 
chases of valuable articles from the natives and the English factory at Ses- 
ters, he returned to the Cape on tho 13th of May. 

"One century ago," he wrote, "a great part of this lino of coast was 
jvjpulous, cleared of trees, and under cultivation. The native towns are 
numerous, but not large. The people raise their own rice, cassada, and palm 
oil ; and procure their guns, powder, clothes, tobacco, knives, cooking uten- 
sils, and luxuries from French slave-traders. Wo saw at least three vessels of 
this description. 



308 ADVEXTUIIES AXD ACUIEVEMEXTS 

Every tribe visited on this trip, declared by its ijriuoe or head man, its 
intention to preserve witli us a good understanding, and to trade freely to 
the colony. Tlie particulars of our late war, especially the result of the 
two engagements, have been reported far and near, and given to the colony 
a character for strength and invincibility which must in different ways con- 
tribute greatly to its advantage." 

On the return of Ashmun, the colonists were found to have continued 
their labors, under the direction of one of their own number; while Mr. 
Scaton had experienced a severe attack of the fever of the climate ; and 
which terminated a few weeks later in his too filling an African grave. 

Aware of the dangers of the settlement, the managers of the Society had, 
early in the preceding winter, determined to dispatch a reinforcement of 
emigrants, with stores, under the direction of Dr. Ayres, whose imjjroved 
health now permitted him to resume his duties as principal agent and pliy- 
sician in the colonj', a station which he had tilled prior to the arrival of 
Mr. Ashmun in Africa. This gentleman embarlced at Baltimore with sixty- 
one colored passengers, on the 16th of April, and arrived at Cape Montse- 
rado on the 24:th of May. Such au' accession to the numbers and resources 
of the colonj', could not fail to confirm the hopes and resolution of the 
earlier settlers who had so long borne up against want, and malevolence, and 
misfortune. 

Notwithstanding his many pressing engagements, and the illness which 
had so severely afilictod him nearly up to this time, Mr. Ashmun had ne- 
glected no opportunity of transmitting to the managers of the Colonization 
Society, an account of his proceedings, with all sucli facts and statements, 
as he thought might aid their deliberations, and liglit the way to measures 
best suited to promote the permanent welfare of the colony. 

lie was earnest in his requests, that education, not onl}' in letters and 
science, but in morals and religion, should be esteemed of vital importance. 
In a letter forwarded by the Cyaue, after enumerating sundr}' improve- 
ments which he designed to make, he observes : " Our little school is kept 
in operation, but it is a feeble affair. Our poor liberated captives [alluding 
to little children, tliat had been taken from a slaver and sent to the colony] 
work hard and cheerfully, but receive little instruction. My heart often 
bleeds for them aiid others in similar circumstances. When can you send 
out an accomplished and pious schoolmaster? Permit me to say a word 
about a minister of the Gospel, ^^'e are starving for want of the able, reg- 
ular administration of the word and ordinances. Does not even the colony 
deserve the attention of some Missionary Society ? Let it be considered 
that zealous ministers, catechists, etc., residing in the town, may bestow 
any part of their time and labors on the heathen. They may open schools 
in the opposite side of the river, which will immediately be partially filled 
with heathen youth and children. They may form in town a missionary 
family. The people of this part of the coast have no inveterate anti-reli- 
gious prejudices to prevent their attending every Sabbath or oftener, to hear 
the Divine word." 

"I wish," continues Mr. Ashmun, "to aflbrd the board a full view of 
our situation, and of the African character. The following incident I relate, 
not for its singularity, for similar events take place, perhaps, every month 



OF AJIKRIGANS. 0(59 

in the year ; but it has fallen under my own observation, and I can vouch 
for its authencity: King Boatswain, our most jiowerful suiiporler and steady 
friend amonj the natives (so he has uniformly shown himself), received a 
quantity of goods in trade from a French slaver, for which lie stipulated to 
pay young slaves. He makes it a point of honor to be punctual to his en- 
gagements. The time was at hand when he expected tlie return of the 
slaver. He had not the slaves. Looking round on the peaceable tribes 
about him, for her victims, he singled out the Qucahs, a small agricultural 
and trading people, of most inoffensive character. His warriors were skill- 
fully distributed to the different hamlets, and making a simultaneous ;ussault 
on the sleeping occupants, in the dead of night, accomplished, witliout dif- 
ficulty or resistance, the annihilation (with the exception of a few- towns) 
of the whole tribe. Ever3' adult man and woman xvas murdered ; every 
hut fired ; very young children ijenerally shared the fate of tlieir jiarcnts. 
The boys and girls alone were reserved to pay the Frenchman." 

It has been stated already, that, from the first, Mr. Ashniun proposed, as 
one great object of his voyage, to ascertain the resources, and make particular 
observations on the trade of Africa ; and to establish under the sanction and 
auspices of the Colonization Society, regular commercial intercourse between 
that country and the United States. 

His letters to the secretary of the Society, from the Capes of Virginia, 
and from Fayal, contain some of his thoughts on the subject. In September, 
soon after his arrival in Africa, his opinions and plans were more fully de- 
veloped, and communicated from time to time to the board of managers. 

On his way to Africa, at Fayal, he had judged it necessary to purchase a 
small quantity of supplies, and give in payment drafts on the United States 
Government and the Society. Observing, on his arrival, the destitution of 
the colonj', he obtained goods to the amount of fourteen hundred dollars, 
for wdiich was taken in payment, an order on the Society, payable at the end 
of six months. In his letter of advice, he suggested that the Society could 
either pay for these goods, and thus realize all the profits to be derived from 
them, or should he be ajipointed agent, and receive (as other agents had 
done) a year's salary in advance — the whole or such portion as tlie Society 
should choose, might be applied in payment. He did not, however, conceal 
his desire, that the obligation should be assumed by the Society, and that 
his salary (should there be one) might go to the extinction of Ids debts in 
the United Stales. 

Unfortunately, he stood not now in tlio clear light of puljlie confidence. 
The malign eye of suspicion was upon him. The managers of tlie Society 
participated in the general distrust. He had left the country without offer- 
ing apology or explanation to those who were dissatisfied with his manage- 
ment of the Reiiertory ; feeling no obligation to unvail his private afl'airs, 
.and cherishing too much respect for his own integrity, to volunteer in its 
defense, suspicions, which were at first, from misapprehension, indulged 
against him, borrowed shape and distinctness from the imagination — grew 
bv time, and at length, gained with many, the weight of certainty and 
truth. 

On the 24th of May, Dr. Ayrcs had returned to the colony as iirinciiial 
agent, both of the Government and Society. By dispatches that came with 



370 ADVKXTUllES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

him, Mi. Ashniun had the mortification to learn, that his drafts, both on the 
Government and Society, had been dishonored ; that neither had made any 
appropriation for his benefit; that he had been appointed to no agency by 
the Government; tliat the Society had invested him with no authority; but 
while it gratefully acknowledged his services, and engaged liberally to re- 
ward them, had left the amount of his compensation, for the past, unde- 
termined ; and for the future, a matter for negotiation with the principal 
agent. 

In June, he was appointed assistant agent, by the board, though it is not 
probable he received knowledge of the fact until late in the fall, when soon 
after Dr. Ayres left the station, and the colonial management once more de- 
volved upon his hands. Again at the head of affairs, he thus wrote ; " We are 
now one hundred and fifty strong, all in health, have about fifty houses, in- 
cluding three stores, and a heavy substantial stone tower, fourteen feet high, 
mounting si.K pieces of ordnance. We have a good frame house, sur- 
rounded with a piazza. Harmony, and a good degree of industry, at present 
jirevail. Thus j'ou see, that we are prepared to go on and fulfill the anxious 
wishes of the friends of the cause, in relation to the cultivation of the lands, 
and the formation of a regular moral and happy society." 

Never, perhaps, in the whole annals of pioneer civilization, was an active 
participant more needed to the success of a mission, than was Ashmun to that 
of African Colonization. 

The presence of Dr. Ayres diminished, for a time, the cares and responsi- 
bilities of Mr. Ashmun, who, considering how uncertain was the time he 
might remain in Africa, resolved to add as mucli as possible to his stock of 
general knowledge, and prepare himself for any change in his fortunes. 
Though he perceived that the tide was fast ebbing with him toward an 
ocean dark and unexplored, he knew that " wisdom is more precious than 
rubies," and whatever vicissitudes or dangers might await him, of whatever 
else he might be deprived, he would retain her incomparable treasure. 

Amid the perplexity and uncertainty of his affairs, he summoned his in- 
tellectual powers to their highest efforts. Probably, during no equal period 
of his life, did he pursue his studies with more enthusiasm or success, than 
from the arrival of Dr. Ayres, in May, 1823, to his departure in December 
of the same year. The following rules for conduct, dated September, 1823, 
indicate the principles which animated, and the spirit that then sustained 
him : 

1. Never to be guilty of a vicanness which my most virtuous and spirited 
children (should I be blessed with children possessing these qualities) would 
blush to see published to the world as a part of a parent's biography. 

2. Never, unless compelled by poverty, to accept of a situation, or engage 
in an occupation which experience or observation have taught me would 
cramp the exercise of abilities, either natural or acquired. 

3. To study and avail myself of a quick sense of propriet}', in all matters 
small or great, of morality, judgment, manners, dress and business. 

4. To build on my own foundation, and to study none but the most per- 
fect examples, living or dead. 

u. To prefer the society of dead authors of eminence, to that of living 
actors, of simple mediocrity. 



OF AMERICANS. 37] 

6. To regard the contracting of a debt, as a mortgage of personal liberty 
and moral principle. (John Basilworth II, of Russia, afSxod a brand of 
infamy on such as contracted debts they could not pay, and sent them into 
banishment.) 

7. To avoid exposing myself to the degradation of espousing measures, 
which the situation of a weaker or more ignorant man may give him tlie 
power to defeat. 

8. Never to assert, without being able to prove to a candid and sensible 
man, my proposition : never to advise unless sure that the neglecter of my 
counsel will repent his folly. 

9. Never to talk without the undivided attention of all to whom I address 
my discourse. 

10. Always to utter my sentiments with precision and propriety — even 
should it cost me some previous reflection ; and never begin an expression 
without bringing it to a perfect close. 

11. Let me search after truth, and contract such an aflcclion for it as to 
endure in my mind no rival prejudices, or opinions, o?i any subject whatever. 

12. To run the risk of being candid, open, sincere ; and abandon utterly 
the friendship and confidence of any civilized man base and depraved enough 
to attempt to gain an undue advantage of these qualities. 

13. Never to commence an enterprise without being well assured of its 
utility ; and having imdertaken, never to abandou it unaccomplished. 

14. To do whatever I undertake in the best possible manner, — always 
allowing for the time and means I can employ on the object. 

15. To acquire a style of writing and expression, of conception and feel- 
ing — of manners and deportment, which, destitute of servility, locality and 
mannerism, shall pass current among the best mnks of people of all profes- 
sions and in all countries. 

16. To continue my inquiries and reflections on whatever subject may 
engage them, until either my information is perfectly exact, or the means of 
extending it exhausted. 

17. To vitiate no one of the appetites so far as to render it necessary to 
health, to mental vigor, or bodily ease, to continue the indulgence. 

18. To be rigorously exact in keeping my pecuniary accounts ; that I may 
not appear mean in my disbursements. 

19. To turn every portion of my time to good account. 

20. To have as little connection as possible with the conceited, the over- 
bearing, the pedantic, the blustering ; and finally, with all who are incapable 
of measuring and esteeming solid acquirements and intellectual superiority, 
even when sheltered from the vulgar stare by a plain and unassuming ex- 
ternal demeanor. 

21. In my estimation of others, let ignorance, when no opportunity has 
been had to remove it, be treated with kindness and indulgence; where it 
co-exists with a wish and effort to remove it, let it command my favor and 
a,ssistance ; where it is accompanied with the contented complacency of the 
fool whom it debases, let it make me blush for the heart of a brute in the 
form of a human being ; but, when with swaggering pretensions either to 
Knowledge or respect on some other grounds, it merits an equal share of the 
profoniulrst contempt and detestation. 

21 



372 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

To conclude, — I fully believe in a particular providence regulating and 
ordsring the conduct and purposes of men ; so as to leave the voluntary 
agent accountable. We shall be instruments to fulfill the Divine purposes 
nolentes volentes. If wickedness succeed for a time, it prospers by the Divine 
decree, and can only proceed a given number of links in its chain." 

For more than twelve months, Mr. Ashmun had been on the continent, 
enduring every conceivible hardship and privation. Twice had the colony 
been on the verge of annihilation — a fate which was only averted by his 
heroic devotion and superior wisdom. Yet its friends at home were disposed 
to murmur. His drafts, protested, were returned to him. To aggravate his 
situation, some of the men began to show a spirit of insubordination. 
Twelve of the number united in open mutiny, and tried to carry others 
with them, upon which Ashmun gave the following public notice : " There 
are in the colony, more than a dozen healthy persons, who will receive ne 
more provisions out of the public store, till they earn them." This, it was 
hoped would induce them to return to duty. Such was not the case. All 
restraint was thrown off, and they became more openly clamorous. The 
rations of the mutineers were thereupon stopped, upon which they assembled 
at the agency house, .and stirred up quite an uproar, threatening to drive the 
agent out. Gaining nothing by this, they proceeded to the house of the 
commissary who was then giving out the regular rations. They rushed 
upen him, when eioh seized a portion of the provision and m.ide off. Ash- 
mun addressed them, with a dignified circular, setting forth in firm tones 
their conduct, and warning them against a persistence therein. This had 
the desired effect. The better disposed returned to duty, and the others 
being deserted, were awed into acquiescence. 

Other events also transpired of great utility to the colony. In February, 
the United States ship Cyrus brought to their assistance a reinforcement of 
one hundred and five emigrants, mostly from Virginia. During the voyage> 
universal health prevailed among the crew, so that when they were lauded, 
much was expected from their buoyant vigor ; that contrasted advantageously 
enough with the worn down colonists. These hopes, however, were soon 
dampened. The emigrants were to a man soon prostrated with the fever 
'.hat almost invariably attacked the unacolimated stranger. Provisions again 
ga . out. Of rice, which was an essential article of food, to all, and almost 
indispo .^able to the sick, they scarcely had a jwund. To these distresses, 
were adu^,! those of mutiny and anarchy. Uneducated and without even 
the remotest conceptions of relative duties, they were not slow to lay the 
blame of their sufferings upon Mr. Ashmun, whose authority the most reck- 
less begau openly to throw off. It soon became necessary to reduce the daily 
mtions, giving to each man but half allowance, which in no way tended to 
allay the excited feelings of the mutineers. Ashmun assembled the colonists 
and delivered to them an appropriate address, couched in tones of firmness 
and decision. 

Though this was not without good effect, so general had became the spirit 
of insubordination, that it was some time before the united co-operation of 
the colonists could be secured. In the midst of these efforts for tlie good 
of all. Ashmuii's name had been handled somewhat roughly, by some 
journalists at home ; and his conduct was a theme of censure. Their vindi 



OF AMERICANS. 373 

cation mortified him very much. Things were in this sUte when he started 
on a visit to the Cape De Verde Islands, to regain his health, a measure made 
absolutely imperative by a complication of infirmities which had reduced 
him to a mere wreck. Before embarliing he met with a serious accident. In 
endeavoring to pull a decayed tooth, an artery was cut. Profuse bleeding 
followed. AVhilo enfeebled from loss of blood, and trying to make his way to 
the vessel, he was robbed of what he had. A paper was left on the Cape, 
stating, that he had spent the prime of his life in the service, aiming to do 
his duty, claiming to have kept the board correctly informed of the condition 
of affairs, disavowing any misuse of funds, or the reception of renuraeration, 
save a slight gratuitous present — a.sserting that more than all the profits 
accruing from his traflSc with the natives had been ajiplied to the wants of 
the colony, and declaring that "whoever named that barter after his absence 
except to his advantage was an ingrate, who thrusts his viper sting into the 
bosom which has nourished his existence." 

Ashmun was now in the depths of misery. He was so weakened from 
the loss of blood that had flowed from him for a whole day, that he could 
scarcely move ! Indeed his life was despaired of. The colony too was in a 
distracted condition, and his name abused among his countrymen. 

At this period, an armed schooner, the Porpoise, had been dispatched 
from the United States to the coast of Africa, for the purpose of farthering 
the schemes of colonization. In July, 1824, she anchored in Porto Praya 
Harbor in the Cape De Verde Islands, soon after the arrival of Mr. Ashmun, 
who immediately went on board. There he met Mr. Gurley, who had been 
sent out by the Colonization Society to examine into the affairs of the colony. 
This gentleman afterward became his l)iogra])licr, and, in his Life of Ashmun, 
thus speaks of the impression he made upon them at the time : 

"There was that in his presence and aspect, which once seen, is never 
forgotten. The officers of the ship who were strangers to him, felt that ha 
was an extraordinary man. In his whole appearance were blended dignity 
and humility. The serene light of reason, of goodness, of meekness, soft- 
ened the stateliness of sorrow, and threw a charm on the grandeur of his 
storm-shaken, but self-sustained spirit. His soul seemed refreshed by ti- 
dings from his native laud, and his social aflections to gush forth, pure and 
simple, as those of childhood, from the deeply-stirred fountains of his heart. 
ll'j remarks on the colony, showed an extensive and thorough knowledge 
of its interests, and the tone and manner in which they were delivered, left 
it hardly possible to doubt that they were among the most precious objects 
of his affection. The feelings expressed in his countenance were particularly 
observable, varying, as less or more intense, the light and shade, so that his 
features-, as was said of those of a great poet, like " a beautiful alabaster vase, 
were only seen to perfection, wlien lighted up from within." Nothing was 
detected betraying a single motive or purpose which it w;us not honor to 
avow; and the recollection that Satan himself is sometimes transformed into 
an angel of light, alone could guard the judgment against the instant ad- 
mission of his integrity. 

At our second interview, the proceedings of the board and government 
were developed, and the object of the special mission fully explained. He 
was told what representations of his conduct had been received from the 



374 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

colony, and that confidence in his character and administratian had given 
way before the corroding power of suspicion, and the multiplied insinuations 
and allegations directed against both. 'I will accompany j-ou to the Cape,' 
said he ; 'ray long and familiar acquaintance with the affairs of the colony 
may enable me to render you some aid in effecting the arduous duties of 
your mission.' As he spoke, you marked the show of an unalterable purpose 
not to abandon a cause for which he had sacrificed everything but life ; you 
admired the elevation of his soul above all selfish considerations, towering 
like an eagle against the storm and the thunder-cloud, and already catching 
glimpses of the purity and brightness of the heavens. But his moral great- 
ness was ordinarily sober and grave, as though it had felt unkindness, been 
touched by grief, and stood a solitary monument amid ruined hopes. 

My favorable impressions of Mr. Ashmun's character, received at our 
interview, were deepened by each successive conversation, inquiry, and re- 
flection on our passage ; nor should I have hesitated to predict confidently, 
that not a shadow of evidence existed, to substantiate the charges that had 
been urged against him. The prediction would have been verified. There 
was no evidence. Not a man in the colony dared to accuse him of an un- 
wise or an unworthy action. Every individual of the least standing, was 
examined personally by me on the subject ; and the result was, to my mind, 
moral demonstration, that no m.an could more faithfully, more disinterestedly, 
more resolutely, have fulfilled the duties of his station. The clouds that 
had darkened his reputation, arose from the low grounds of ignorance and 
the putrescent ingredients of malice, and the light of an investigation that 
revealed the sources of their origin, dispelled them forever." 

On the 13th of August, they safely reached Cape Montserado. Ashmun 
found the conditiou of aft'airs somewhat improved. The rebellious spirit 
seemed greatly quieted, and a partial supply of provisions had temporarily 
relieved their distress. Everything now looked well ; hospitals were built ; 
religious exercises attended to ; schools opened, and on all sides progress 
was seen. The condition of the colony was transmitted to the board in an 
early report. It was unsatisfactory. Their judgments warped by undue 
suspicions, and blinded by prejudice, they began to look around for a 
proper person, to assume the management of affairs. But before the selec- 
tion was made, " confirmation strong as holy writ," of Ashmun's efliciency 
was received. Everything underwent a great change, in an almost incred- 
ible short space of time. Positive evidence came to hand, that the colony 
was prospering, beyond all precedent ; laws were enacted, buildings erected, 
moral sentiments infused, schools opened, and the truths of religion success- 
fully proclaimed. It was just prior to this time that he w>ns given an oppor- 
tunity to reply to the slanderous allegations that had been made against him 
in connection with the Repertory, and which had much to do with the change 
of opinion on the part of the board. We have alluded elsewhere to the 
unfortunate difterences which arose between him and others, in consequence 
of the pecuniary embarrassments of the Repertory. These diff'erences had 
their origin, principally, if not entirely, in misapprehension. A public notice, 
however, had been sent forth on the cover of that work, after Mr. Ashmun's 
departure from the country, charging him, by implication at least, with a 
breach of trust. Though this publication was early and deeply regretted 



OF AJlKltlUAXS. 



375 



by sonic who lent it theii' .sanclion, others still retained the sentimcnis which 
dictated it, and to those sontiinunts as the main source must be traced, the 
suspicion and distrust of Ashman which so long infected the mind of tlie 
board and of the community in which thoy resided. A respectable indi- 
vidual at this time franklj' communicated the charges which existed against 
him, and he therefore felt required by duty to the cause in which he was 
engaged, as well as to himself, to meet and refute them. The conclusion 
of this letter to the board, is inserted to show how deep were his feelings 
on this occasion, and how eloquently he could express them : 

" However lightly the accusations in question may have been resolved on 
and published, the deed has drawn after it no trivial consequences. To have 
robbed an individual who is known to have the sensibilities of a man, of 
so great a share of his peace as I have suffered and must, would, if truly 
weighed, be regarded as something ; to shake, for a season, and perhaps till 
the grave shall hide them from me forever, the confidence of two venerable 
parents, on whose names calumny never before dared to afSx a stain, and 
who would sooner follow their nine children to the grave, than believe that 
one of them could disgrace it ; to blast, for a season, at least, the fond hopes 
of one of the most respectable and numerous families in the United States ; 
to poison, with suspicion, the minds of a numerous connection of beloved 
and coufiding friends, in half the States of the Union ; to jilace mo as an 
insulated being in the midst of the lower creation, bound to no part by the 
ties of a sincere respect; to injure the valued, and in some sense, sacred 
cause in which I have sacrificed much and hazarded more, by curtailing my 
nsefulness and weakening the bonds of mutual confidence between my em- 
ployers and myself — between me and the colonists ; — thus to tie up, for 
months, from efHcient exertion, the hands of a young man, whose advantages 
Lave been man}-, and whose obligations to bo useful are felt to be imperious ; 
these are some of the actual fruits of that publicalion : the end of it, is yet 
to be awaited. The board have seen on what grounds that tremendous re- 
sponsibility has been incurred. As a dispensation of heaven, I accept it 
with penitence for the punishment of my sins. As far as it has been the 
work of man, I protest against it with all the abhorrence and force which its 
character inspires. And I have done it in language which must have its 
weight ; because it is tho language of truth — of truth which, whoever lives, 
will see every opening circumstance in future to corroborate and establish. 
On leaving the United States, I formally assigned all the uncollected arrears 
of the Repertory to pay its debts. Availing myself, from conscientious mo- 
tives, of no insolvent laws, I delivered up every dollar of disposable property 
I had, iu proportionate shares, to my creditors. The compensation I received 
as agent of your board, was so applied ; also a large edition of the Life of 
Bacon, which I have been mortified to learn, has not answered my expecta- 
tions in the sales, and consequently left a larger unsettled balance, to bo 
otherwise paid, than I anticipated. I do not allow myself to cherish a bitter 
feeling toward any man living. * * I shall, I hope, never trouble your 
respectable body with a similar detail ; and most probably, let the whole 
matter slumber in silence, till a higher power shall call it uji for a final de- 
cision before an unerring tribunal." 

The next report of Ashmun was warmly received, and his suggestions at 



376 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

once acted upon. He now began to experience those delightful lljrills of 
satisfactiop, incident to a just appreciation of laborious and well-meant ef- 
forts. In the spring of 1825, the number of the colonists was increased by 
the accession of over sixty settlers from the United States. Ashmun clearly 
saw the advantages to be derived from agricultural pursuits. To promote 
this branch of healthful industry, he wrote some elaborate articles for the 
Liberia Parmer, which, however, were not published at the time. With a 
view of advancing farming interests, and directing the minds of emigrants to 
that pursuit, ho purchased a vast tract of country, lying on the Montserado 
and St. Paul rivers, of which final possession M'as taken, and everything went 
on thrivingly. Of this and all other transactions, Ashmun was careful to 
keep the board accurately advised. No longer was any distrust entertained 
toward him. The board met and unanimously recommended that he be 
continued, at the head of affairs in Liberia, intrusted with the full pireroga- 
tivcs of chief colonial agent. Thus, after treading a bleak Zahara, without 
an Oasis to cheer his vision, standing alone self-exiled from his native land, 
facing danger, toil, affliction and death — no company but the ghost of his 
murdered reputation — he suddenly found himself imder a cloudless sky, the 
recipient of merited fame, and an acknowledged benefactor of his race. 
Ashmun now exercised almost paternal authority over the natives, into whoso 
good graces he had completely ingratiated himself. He was anxious to es- 
tablish the colony upon a basis that would not be e^'.-ily overturned or 
shaken — a basis upon which it would grow and develop su as not only to be 
a credit to the founders and the nation, but a model for those who hereafter 
should undertake schemes of colonization. Ho wished under the broad 
banner of civil liberty, and under religion's consecrated seal, to establish a 
republic every way worthy the name. With the passing years, his anxiety 
became more than ever intense ; for, as he felt the sands of life ebb away, 
the necessity of devoting the remaining portion of his days to the work 
became to him more apparent. Of his genius, heroism, prudence, and energy, 
the present Republic of Liberia stands an imperishable monument. 

One thing caused him great anxiety. This was the slave trade. Vessels 
still engaged in the traffic, though the guns of the colonists frowned upon 
them. " The purchase money," said he, in July, 1825, " has, during this 
week been landed in our waters to the incalculable detriment of the colony, 
and disgrace, shall I say, of our American Government. The colony only 
wants the right, it has the power, to expel this trafSc to a distance, and force 
it at least to conceal some of its enormities." Soon after this, he began to think 
of enlarging the limits of the colony. The coast from Trade Town to Cape 
Mount was explored, with a view to bringing that portion of the country in 
colonial possession. About this time, also, an English vessel was captured by 
a Spanish slaver at Monrovia. Under the supposition that many slaves were 
on board of the Spaniard, Ashmun determined to rescue them. With a small 
force, he proceeded against the Spanish factory which was taken without 
bloodshed : several slaves also were liberated. This was followed by the 
breaking up of two other slave factories, by Ashmun, whose antipathy to- 
ward that odious traffic was firm and deep-rooted. 

So far as the colony was concerned, it was now no longer an experiment. 
In January, he thus wrote concerning their prospects : " Our town begins to 



OF AMERICANS. 377 

assume the appearance of a beautiful little commercial West India sea-port, 
and C€rt;iiiily has one of the most delightful situations 01. the face of the 
globe. lu beauty and grandeur of prospect, no station on the coast is half 
80 charming or half so commanding. It would, I am confident, prove to the 
members of j-our board an ample renumeration for much of their disinter- 
ested labors for Africa, to make a single visit to their colony, and see a well 
organized, improving and Christian society, founded by their hands." 

At the same time, preparations were made for sending a large number of 
emigrants from the United States, and to increase the supply of boolis and 
stationery, needful for the success of the schools. These valuable accessions 
arrived in due time, and thus things continued to look well. A printiug- 
pre.ss, and a missionary, two important levers of civilization, also arrived, 
amid the liveliest satisfaction. From these harbingers of peace, Ashmun 
hoped the greatest results. As these accessions came over, the limits of the 
colony continued to enlarge — spreading the lines of civilization and con- 
tracting tliose of barbarism and ignorance. One of the greatest nests of the 
slave-traffickers was at Trade Town. Ashmun resolved on ifs destruction. 
A Spanish vessel was there awaiting her cargo of slaves — not having her 
full number collected. Ashmun ordered what they had to be given up, and 
the vessel to leave, assuring them that in case of refusal, the whole town 
would be destroyed. This warning was not heeded. He then sent word to 
a French brig-of-war, by which the slaver w-as speedily captured. This tran- 
saction liberated several hundred slaves. The nest at Trade Town, however, 
was not broken up. Till this was done, Aslimun desired no pause. Two 
vessels on voyages of slave-traffic soon after arrived : the factories were all 
the time in full blast. Ashmun determined to stop the nefarious business. 
With no great number of troops, a vigorous attack was made upon the town. 
Considerable resistance was oiJered by the Spaniards, who drew up on the 
beach and gave them a warm reception. They succeeded in effecting their 
entrace into the place without heavy loss. The next day, Ashmun vainly 
tried to settle all differences without violence. The slaves were rescued, 
placed on board, and the town sot on fire. The flames sjiread with great 
rapidity. Scarce had the last troops embarked, when, communicating to the 
magazine, the flames ignited six hundred casks of powder, and Trade Town 
was instantly blown to atoms. The destruction of this place, Ashmun 
hoped, would have an influence favorable to the suppression of the slave- 
trade, but several prominent natives leagued with the slavers to establish 
the iniquitous traffic on its old footing. Ashmun learned also that quite an 
armament of Spanish vessels, resolving to maintain Trade Town as a poi t 
for their business, were near with a show of fight. Upon this, he immedi- 
ately ordered the erection of strong fortifications, in close proximity to the 
town, overlooking the vessels in the roadstead. He also sent word to the 
secretary of the navy, that a sufficient force to overawe the slavers w;is in- 
dispensable on the coast. His own unbounded influence with the nativs 
chiefs, however, proved requisite to the task of holding tliem in check. 

Ashmun had now been several years in Africa The colony w.is estab- 
lished and maintained principally through his own great exertions. Five 
stations were placed on a solid basis. Education was prospering, and com- 
mercial interests being regulated. Never, perhaps, had so much, under cir- 



378 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

cumstaiices so singularly embarrassing, been acconiplislied by one man. His 
most ardent aims had been gratified — for he had established the colony on 
an unimperishable basis. Peacefully now might he fold his arms, in the last 
quiet sleep of the grave, feeling that " well done," would be whispered to 
his soul. 

A celebrated writer has remarked, "that the greatest obstacle to the im- 
provement of the world is that prevailing belief of its improbability, which ^ 
dampens the exertions of so many individuals ; and, that in proportion as 
the contrary opinion becomes general, it realizes the event which it leads us 
to anticipate. Surely, if anything can have a tendency to call forth in the 
public service the exertions of individuals, it must be an idea of the magni- 
tude of that work in which they are engaged, and a belief of the perma- 
nence of those benefits which they confer on mankind by every attempt to 
inform and enlighten them. As in ancient Rome, therefore it was regarded 
as a mark of a good citizen never to despair of the fortunes of the republic ; 
60 the good citizen of the world, whatever may be the political aspect of 
his own times, will never despair of the fortunes of the human race ; and 
that, in the moral world, as well as the material, the farther our observations 
extend, and the longer they are continued, the more shall we perceive of 
order and design in the universe." 

These remarks will certainly apply to Ashmun in his early efforts at Afri- 
can Colonization. Not only was the scheme looked upon as improbable and 
visionarj', but he was himself, as we have seen, the victim of prejudice and 
cruel mistrust. But, not despairing of a cause, in the furtherance of which 
he felt well assured he had the smiles and protection of heaven, he perse- 
vered until one by one the difSculties began to give way. His eminent suc- 
cess in founding the Colony of Liberia, elicited the high praise of all parties. 
AVarm champions came to the rescue of colonization, whose practicability they 
thus saw demonstrated. Able pens were weilded, and eloquent voices were 
raised in its behalf. 

Amid these auspicious indications, Ashmun was gratified by the arrival, on 
the llth April, 182G, of nearly a hundred emigrants from South Carolina, 
and others shortly after from Georgia, bringing with them over two hundred 
re-captured Africans. He had for some time manifested an inclination to re- 
turn to his native land. Soon after the above arrival, feeling that it was an 
interesting period of his labors, he thus wrote to the board : " I am at length 
reluctantly compelled, by a sense of duty to the colony, to relinquish my in- 
tention, so long indulged and so fondly cherished, of visiting the United 
States the present season. The arrival of so large a company at so late a 
period of the dry season — the absence of my colleague — the multiplicity of 
arduous and delicate duties, devolving on an agent in consequence of the re- 
cent extension of our settlements, the very expensive improvements com- 
menced, and ncarli/ but not quite completed, are motives for remaining to which 
I dare not oppose private inclination or any probable good which might grow 
out of my return to the United States. Mr. Howley has intimated to me 
his opinion of the impropriety of the step at the present time, and I confess 
that the report just received of the untiring and laborious struggle in which 
all the active friends of the cause in America are the present year engaged 
in its behalf, has affected me with no slight feeling of self reproach, for 



OF AMERICANS. 37.) 

having so lightly determined myself to quit even for a season the important 
post of duty, assigned to me. My friends, I fear, will do little justice to 
these motives ; but I shall apologize to them in the best way I can — and 
put up with the accusation. I know they will accuse me of having trilled 
with their feelings, by exciting expectations which my present determination 
is obliged bitterly to disappoint." 

Much as he wished again to see the loved scenes of his youth, priv.ate en- 
joyments, in this, as in every other instance, were sacrificed for the pulilic 
duties of his high mission. About this time, a friendly schooner was blown 
ashore, and almost completely wrecked. The provisions with which she 
was laden, were much needed by the colonists. Their loss reduced them to 
the necessity of purchasing, at a high price, such articles as they were obliged 
to have. Nor was this the only loss. Ashmun was exposed to a four hours 
rain, -while trying to save the vessel, which resulted in a severe fever, and 
rlieumatism that brought him to death's door. . For three weeks he sulTered 
the most acute, agonizing pains and burning fevers. Soon after his recovery, 
a treaty of peace was concluded with the refractory chiefs, at Trade Town, 
by which mutual protection and encouragement were guaranteed by both 
(larties. Hostilities now began between two of the native tribes, which 
Ashmun vainly tried to reconcile. Ilis efforts, however, kept both of the 
belligerent parties on good terms with the colonists, which was the pritne 
object of his mediation in the matter. 

At this time, he established an infirm.ary for the benefit of the sick and 
disabled, which went into operation under happy auspices, that insured the 
best results. The public schools, also, were re-organized, and put more effi- 
ciently to work. To secure that economy among the emigrants so essential 
to success and prosperity, he also recommended that sucli goods and com- 
modities, as were shipped by the United States, should be exchanged for 
the native products, as being much the cheapest, and easier procured. To 
internal improvements, too, he gave considerable attention, and put a good 
force to clearing the Montserado River, so as to render it more navigable and 
better adapted to faeiliate the operations of commerce. In this way, his 
f'enius and devotion were always actively on the alert for the benefit of the 
colony. Nothing conducive to a spirit of industrious enterprise, and pro- 
gressive refinement was neglected. Several military companies were also 
oro-anized, as a defense against any depredations or unforseen emergencies 
that mi^ht occur. The stations had increased to eight in number, and each 
was more efficiently organized than before. While all this had been accom- 
plished, remarkable as it may .seem, such were the administrative talents of 
Ashmun, that nearly all the expenses had been defrayed by tlie internal 
workings of the colony, independent of exterior aid. In fact, the last year's 
operations developed a profit of several thousand dollars. Elated at liis 
success, Ashmun left no means untried to maintain his hard-earned fame, 
and ascendant advantages. Industrial pursuits and education he looked njion 
as subjects of primary intere-st, in the enlightenment of Africa. Farms were 
opened, and the natives incited to their tillage. To the subject of schools, 
he continued his earnest attention. This he looked upon as being one of 
the most important objects of his mission. "Whether," says he, "we re- 
gard such schools as a cheap means of extending the power of the colony— 



380 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

as the most effectual inslnimeiits of civilizing the continent — as a noble ex- 
ercise of Christian pliilanthropj-, or the best expression of Christian piety — 
(and the object, I think, is susceptible of either of these views) — no work 
connected with the rearing of the colony, is, in my opinion, more desirable. 
I think it nearly capable of moral demonstration, that the African tribes may- 
be civilized without expulsion from their chosen settlements and villages, 
and without that fearful diminution of their population, which has, from 
causes that do not exist here, as in regard to the Indians of America, accom- 
panied the march of civilization in that hemisphere." By this time, through 
the active exertions of the colonists, not only were all things working well 
immediately at home, but the interior of the countrj' was explored with re- 
ference to enlarging the colonial boundaries. The population they found was 
of an active, enterprising sort, and had made considerable progress in agri- 
culture. 

Early in the year 1828, a United States vessel reached Liberia, with over 
one hundred more emigrants. This arrival found Ashmun in the midst of 
perplexing engagements. Several vessels were in port, the affairs of which 
demanded his personal consideration. Such an accumulation of labor, he 
said, " I never felt pressing on me before. Days and nights were too short. 
But I dispatched, previous to the 25th, three of the vessels, when another 
arrived from Sierra Leone, with special claims on my attention." In addi- 
tion to this, a piratical Spanish vessel menaced the coast in a threatening 
manner, that required of Ashmun the necessity of keeping a sharp look-out 
upon her movements. 

Soon after this, he visited, in person, all the principal native chiefs of the 
vicinity, giving assurance of his good will to them. From excessive fatigue 
incident to this combination of arduous duties, he was attacked by a severe 
fever, from the effects of which he suffered for some time. His embarrass- 
ments were magnified also, by the sickness of the recently-arrived emigrants, 
among whom there was not a single well man. After awhile, however, 
things began to mend, and prospects to materially brighten up again. In 
February, he thus wrote : " For the last four days, my strength has returned 
almost as rapidly as it w'ent. But I hope the event will advertise the board, 
that the constitution of their agent here is not to be depended on — and that 
a most probable item of intelligence may very shortly be, that he too is 
numbered with the departed. May provision be made according!}'. For 
myself, alone, the event has no appalling features — but to leave the colony, 
to quit a field of labor forever, in which so little is yet done and so much 
ought to be done — here I fear will be the distressing pang of dying. But 
the colony depends, I am persuaded, on the life of no one or ten indivi- 
duals ; and it is a vanity I do not indulge, that it has any such dependence 
on my own. But it is a field of labor in which if better workmen are not 
employed, I wish to be myself so long as with the Divine blessing I can do 
any good." 

These thoughts, that he was approaching his final rest, were verified. He 
soon became so much enfeebled, that his physician gave his written opinion 
that the only hope for his life was in his return to the United States. On 
the 28th of March, he embarked on board of a vessel, and left Africa for- 
ever. Never were greater tokens of respect shown by any community on 



OF AMEKICANS. 3S1 

taking leave of their head. Nearly the whole of the inhabitants of Mon- 
rovia, men, women and children, were out on the occasion, and nearly all 
of them parted from him in tears. He suffered so intensely on the voyage, 
that it was doubtful if ho should survive to reach his native land. He 
arrived at New Haven, Connecticut, where he continued to sink until he 
expired, August 25, 1828, in the thirty-fifth year of his age. 

On the next day, a large concourse of the citizens of New Haven, and of 
the neighboring towns, united in a solemn tribute of respect to his memory, 
and attended his remains to the grave. The assembly had already filled tlio 
Central Church, to which the body of the deceased was conveyed, and the 
minister of Christ just concluded his humble supplications to the God of all 
mercy and consolation, when a venerable, solitary female entered the con- 
gregation, and with a look which told what her tongue might in vain have 
essayed to speak, approached the corpse. It was the mother of Ashmun ! 
Every heart in that vast assembly beat fainter, as they beheld this aged 
matron, who had traveled for several days and nights from a remote part of 
the country, in the hope of embracing her living son, pressing her lips, and 
her heart upon the coffin which concealed all that remained of that son in 
death, forever from her sight. 

The discourse of the Rev. Leonard Bacon, on this occasion, was a just 
and eloquent defense of the spirit that animates the martyrs to a great and 
good cause, and under the power of which Ashmun had sacrificed his life 
in the service of Africa. " His example (said the preacher) shall speak. 
There have been men whose names are as way-marks ; whose examples, 
through successive ages, stir the spirits of their fellow-men with noble emu- 
lation. What has been done for God, and for the souls of men, and for the 
cause of wretched human nature, by the luster which gathers around the 
name of David Brainerd. How many lofty spirits has the .simple history 
of bis toils and sorrows kindled and roused to kindred enterprise. Other 
names there are, which beam from age to age with tlie same glory. How- 
ard, Clarkson, Swartz, Mills, — what meaning is there in .such names as these. 
Our departed friend will add another to that brilliant catalogue. He takes 

his place 

'Amid tU' august auil never dviug light 
Of constellated spirits who have gaiued 
A. name iu heaven by power of heavenly deeds.' 

Let us praise God for the light of his example, which shall never be ex- 
tinguished, and which, as it beams on us, shall also beam on our children 
moving them to deeds of godlike benevolence. 

•Praise 1 for yet one more name with power endowed, 

To cheer and guide us, onward ns we press ; 
Yet one more image, on the heart bestowed, 
To dwell tliere, beautiful in holiness.' 

We have come to his grave. A simple, but beautiful monument, erected 
by the managers of the American Colonization Society, in the church-yard 
of New Haven, bears the name of Ashmun. This monument may perish, 
but that name never. It is engraven on the heart of Africa. In his person, 
Mr. Ashmun was tall — his hair and eyes light — his features regular and cast 
in the finest mould — his manners mild, yet dignified — and in his counte- 



3S2 ADVEi«TURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

nance an expression of the gentlest affections softened the lineaments of a 
lofty, firm, and fearless mind." 

Liberia, since having been placed on a firm basis through the exertions of 
Mr. Ashmun, has prospered beyond all example. It now extends along the 
Guinea Coast for a distance of four hundred and twenty miles, with an 
average breadth of forty miles inland. It consists of Liberia proper, and 
Maryland in Liberia, the latter being that part south of Cape Talmas. The 
country has been all purchased from time to time by the American Coloni- 
zation Society, aud its climate greatly improved, although it is deadly to 
whites, by a systematic drainage and clearance of the woods. Until the year 
1848, Liberia remained a dependency upon the United States. In that year, 
it was formed into an independent republic, and as such was recognized by 
Great Britain and France. Its government is upon the same model as that 
of the United States, consisting of a president, a vice president, and two 
bouses of congress. 

The natural resources of Liberia are immense. Cotton is natural to the 
soil of which it produces two crops a year. Coffee thrives well, aud the 
Bu^ar-cane grows luxuriantly. Its annual exports, principally of tropical 
productions, amount to over half a million of dollars. The population of 
the Republic of Liberia, in 1850, was two hundred and fifty thousand, of 
whom fifty thousand speak the English language. A thirst for education 
Las been awakened among the surrounding native tribes, for four hundred 
and five hundred miles ; many of them send their children to be educated in 
the republic. The Liberians have built for themselves about thirty churches, 
possess numerous schools and printing presses. More than twenty thousand 
natives have requested to be taken under the protection of the state, while 
not less than one hundred thousand live on its territory and three hundred 
and fifty thousand are bound to it by treaties to abolish the slave-trade. At 
different times ten buildings, erected by slave-tradere for the storage of slaves 
have been burned down by the Liberians, and hundreds of their fellow crea- 
tures therein confined liberated ; and they at all times afford a refuge for the 
weak and the oppressed. The adjoining English colony of Sierra Leone is 
far inferior to Liberia having but about one quarter of its population, and as 
yet remaining a dependency upon the English crown. 

Monrovia is the capital of Liberia. It has a population of about twelve 
thousand ; beside this there are twenty other towns and villages in the terri- 
tory. It is said to be a beautiful thriving American-like town, with hand- 
some churches, elegant private residences, imposing business stores of brick 
on almost every street ; all indicating, the most complete development of the 
amplest resources of mind and bodj- on the part of its citizens. 

The men of color who have migrated to Liberia have felt the influences 
of enterprise and freedom, and are improved alike in their condition and 
character. Those who were slaves become masters ; those who were once 
dependent have become independent; once the objects of charity, they are 
now benefactors, and the very individuals who, a few years ago, felt their 
spirits oppressed and incapable of high eflorts and great achievements, now 
stand forth conscious of their dignity and power, sharing in all the privileges 
and honors of a respected, a free and a Christian people. 




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NARRATIVE 

OF THE 

MIEK EXPEDITION. 

WITH A HISTORY OF THE SURVIVORS WHO WERE IMPRISONED IN THI 

CASTLE OF PEKOTE, IN MEXICO. 



The Texas Revolution was a remarkable exhibition of American character. 
For nine years a population of twenty thousand of our people successfully 
contended against a nation of eight millions. It was a bloody strusglc, 
marked by many thrilling episodes, illustrating the coolest bravery in peril, 
and the manliest fortitude in adversity. 

The history of the Mier Expedition well exhibits the character of those 
heroic people, as given by Thomas J. Green, one of the Texan officers, who 
subsequently published his journal of its events, and from whicli this 
article is derived. 

In the year 1842, the Mexicans havtng twice invaded Texas, marking 
their course by the usual atrocities of that half-savage people, President 
Houston, in September, issued a proclamation calling for volunteers to 
" rendezvous at Bexar, pursue the enemy into Mexico, and chastise him for 
his insolence and wrongs." By November, some twelve hundred Tcxans 
assembled at Bexar, and were placed under the command of General Som- 
crville. Through various causes this force was dwindled down to a few 
liundred men, with which Somerville after much delay inarched to the Kio 
Grande, the Mexican forces under General Woll retreating before tliem. 
Then Somerville abandoned all the objects of the campaign, alleging that 
" he thought it imprudent to remain longer, as the enemy might concen- 
trate." He started for home, accompanied by his staff and a few over two 
hundred men, leaving behind three hundred and four of his Texan com- 
panions in arms, who, having come to fight, determined to be gratified at 
all hazards. 

This little band elected Colonel William S. Fisher commander, and de- 
scended the P.io Grande, part in barges and part on land. Colonel I'homaa 
J. Green held the office of commander of the flotilla and right wing of tho 
forces. On the 21st of December, they an-ived in the vicinity of Mier, 
next to Matamoras, the most important town on the Rio Grande. As 
the place was then destitute of troops for its defense, they marched into it 
without molestation. According to the customs of war, and which, more- 
over, their own destitute condition warranted, they made requisition upoi* 
the alcalde for various stores of provisioius, clothing, arms, etc. Tills was 
acceded to, upon which the troops retired from tho place, carrying witb 

C383) 



384 ADVENTURES AXD ACUIEVEMENTS 

them to their camp below the city the alcalde, as a hostage for the pcr- 
foi-mance of the agreement. Under various pretexts its fulfillment was de- 
layed until on the 25th, when news came that seven hundred Mexicans, 
with two field-pieces, commanded by Ampudia and Canales, had arrived on 
the opposite or right bank of the river. The Texans crossed over to give 
them battle, upon which they retreated into Mier. 

Two of the most efficient of the Texan spies unfortunately had been 
made prisoners. One of these was the afterward much noted Captain 
Samuel li. Walker. On being inten-ogated by Ampudia as to the numbers 
and intentions of the Texans, with the threat of death if he told falsely, 
Walker replied, " that his life was in the general's hands, but that it was 
neither their habit nor natimwlity to lie ; — that the force of the Texans was 
about three hundred men." " They surely have not the audacity to pursue 
and attack me in town," rejoined Ampudia. "Yes, general," said Walker, 
" you need not have any doubts on that point ; they will pursue and attack 

you in !"^ 

The Texans continued in pursuit of the flying Mexicans, when night 
closed in upon them, just as they had reached the outskirts of Mier. The 
night being dark and drizzling with rain, the men were ordered to sit and 
protect their rifles from the damp until the general position of the enemy 
could be learned. This was done, when, after some little skirmishing, tho 
Mexican outposts were carried, and the Texans fought their way by degrees 
in the direction of the military square, making openings through the adobe 
walls of the houses by crowbars. All night long the battle was kept up, 
and many a Mexican fell before the unerring rifle of those frontiermen. 
When day dawned they were in the very heart of the city, with the loss 
of only one man killed and two wounded, having beaten all opposition, and 
being strongly posted in some adobe houses. 

"In less than an hour," says Green, "after daylight opened upon us, 
their artillery was silenced and deserted, and the enemy had recourse to the 
house-tops, from whence they ventured to pour down upon the houses we 
occupied volleys of musketry. In the many thousand cartridges discharged 
at us, an occasional one would take efl'ect, and we had some valuable men 
killed and several wounded. In this situation, some of our best rifles and 
surest shots were brought into play, and they not permitted to fire except 
with dead rest and sure aim. This explains why a large majority of their 
killed and wounded were shot in the head and breast, the only part exposed 
in firing at us. However, to obtain a better position for some of our picked 
riflemen, holes were made in the roofs of the houses we occupied, through 
which they ascended, and in that position we soon cleared all the houses 
within reach. Thus the battle continued until 12 M., and it was perfectly 
clear, from the manner in which their fire had slackened in every quarter, 
that they were badly crippled. One movement more on our part was neces- 
sary to complete the victory, and that was by commanding the public square, 
their stronghold. 

About this time, a column of the enemy charged down a street upon the 
north of the building we occupied. Colonel Fisher, being at that point, 
threw himself, with some twenty men, suddenly into the street, and received 
tlieir fire, which severely wounded several of his men, cutting ofif also the 



OF AMERICANS. 335 

ball of his right thumb. They effectually returned their fire, when the 
party fled. Up to this time, for the last sis hours, the artillery nearest us 
had been silenced, and no one of the enemy dared approach it. It had 
already, as we were afterward told, proved the death of fifty-five out of 
their sixty choice artillery company. To get it out of our reach, they had 
recourse to throwing a lasso over it from behind a corner, and dragging it off. 
Just about this time, they were blowing a charge in dilTeronl directions. 
The writer was in the upper end of the buildings nearest the square, when 
he received information that Colonel Fisher was wounded : hastening to 
where he was, he found him vomiting from the effects of his wound. At 
this juncture, in the midst of victory, we date our misfortunes. 

Dr. Sinnickson, one of the eight men who had been taken prisoners over 
the Alcantra, having been brought to General Ampudia's headquArters, was 
put upon his examination as to our force, etc.; — it, however, corroborated 
Walker's statement. In General Ampudia's staff, as surgeon-general, was 
Dr. Humphries, a Scotchman by birth, formerly surgeon in the Texan army. 
The surgeon-general knew Dr. Sinnickson in Brazoria, and as soon as he 
communicated the fact to the Mexican officers, the cunning Canales and Ca- 
rasco suggested, as a last alternative, that their old deception of a white flag 
should be tried upon us. At this time, so badly were they whipped, that 
we were told by Walker, Lusk, and other prisoners, tied at Ampudia's head- 
quarters, that the oflicers' horses were saddled, and held each by the bridle, 
and that the gate of the churchyard upon the Matamoras road was opened, 
and every preparation was being made for flight, when Dr. Sinnickson was 
started to us with a white flag. AValkcr and others, who had been prison- 
ers since the day previous, had witnessed the battle from where they were 
confined, knew the enemy was badly beaten, and knew their condition too 
well for either of them to be sent in to us. Dr. Sinnickson, having just 
been taken prisoner, and knowing but little of the condition of the enemy, 
had no chance to communicate with the otlicr prisoners, and on this ac- 
count, as well as from his being surgeon in our army, he w-as selected to 
bring in the flag to us. At the time he started with it, the other prisoners 
believed it was for the purpose of asking terms from us, nor were they un- 
deceived in this particular until they saw a portion of our men marching 
into the public square to lay down their arms. 

Dr. Sinnickson was ordered by General Ampudia to say to the Texan 
commander "that he had one thousand seven hundred rcgul.ir troojis in the 
city, and eight hundred fresh troops near by from Monterey, which would 
be up in a few minutes ; that it was useless for him to contend longer 
against such odds, and that, if he would surrender his forces, they should 
be treated with all the honors and considerations of prisoners of war ; and 
that our men should not be sent to Mexico, but kept upon the frontier until 
an exchange or pacification was effected ;— and that, if these terms were 
nob acceded to, we should be allowed no quarter." 

Some few moments elapsed between Dr. Sinnickson's first communica- 
tion with Colonel Fisher, and the astounding information which was com- 
municated to our men, that it was a demand for us to surrender, for up to 
this time a general impression prevailed that they were n.sking terms of us. 
When this information was communicated to om- men, it was promptly met 



886 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

by a general burst of disapprobation, " that they never would surrender 
their arms." 

Colonel Fisher sought an interview with General Ampudia. During hi 
absence, such good use was made of the time by those in favor of fighting 
it out, that on his return not over twenty of the whole number were in 
favor of surrendering. Says Green : Colonel Fisher formed the difl'erent 
companies in the street, to communicate the result of his interview with 
tlie Mexican commander, which was a reiteration of his former promises, 
and he concluded by saying, that "I have known General Ampudia for 
years — know him to be an honorable man, and will vouch for his carrying 
them out ; that if you are willing to accept of these terms, you will march 
into the public-square and give up your arms, or prepare for battle in five 
minutes; that, in any view of the case, your situation is a gloomy one, for 
you cannot fight your way out of this place to the Rio Grande, short of a 
loss of hao thirds or perhaps the whole; — but if you are determined to fight, 
I will be with you, and sell my life as dear as possible." This speech was 
a deathblow to all farther prospect of fighting, for it at once determined 
half of the men to surrender, who instantly separated from the remainder, 
and moved off in the direction of the square. 

Now a scene commenced which defies description. In the countenances 
of those whom Colonel Fisher's speech did not induce to surrender, were 
disappointment, sorrow, rage; many shed tears, some swore, while others 
maintained a sullen determination, which showed that they were prepared 
for the worst. Those who marched oft' with the intention of surrendering, 
showed in their countenances that they believed the act would purchase 
their lives. They did not pass Reese and Pearson's companies, which were 
still formed nearest the square, without a shower of imprecations upon their 
heads. " Go !" said one ; " I hope you may never enjoy the sight of your 

country and liberty again !" " Go," added another, " you cowards ! 

and rot in chains and slavery !" and such like anathemas, which, from their 
solemn truths, seemed to fall heavily upon their spirits, for they returned 
no answer, but marched into captivity in silent obedience. In a feeling of 
rage and contempt, which I was far from controlling, I pursued this party 
several steps, determined to exhaust the last shot of my repeater upon 
them, and take the consequences. Here I was met by an old friend, whose 
head was frosted by seventy winters ; he addressed me in a tone of feeling 
and friendship, that not only disarmed me of my intention, but possessed 
me of another feeling which absorbed my whole soul. I believed that we 
would bo sacrificed, felt that I could stand it, and longed to see whether the 
others could. Under this feeling, I broke my arms upon the pavement, 
and said to them, "Now we will see who can stand shooting the best." In 
a few minutes I went into the square, where I found a group of officers in 
front of several companies of infantry. Among this group was the Mexi- 
can surgeon-general, Dr. Humphries, who knew mc in Texas : he advanced 
and spoke to me cordially. I asked him to show me General Ampudia, 
which he did. Unhooking my naked sword-belt, I advanced and delivered 
it to him, announcing myself at the same time. I remarked to hira, that, 
" having opposed the surrender in vain, I was prepared either for the prison 
»r to be shof, and was perfectly indifferent in the choice." He received me 



OF AMERICANS. 



3S7 



kindly, and replied, that " lio ajipreciated the feelings of the bravo — but 
mine was the fate of war; that his house and friendship were mine, and 
that he hoped I would consider myself his guest, and call upon him freely 
for any service in his power." I thanked him for his personal good feel- 
ings, and turned to look for the party who had preceded me, and found 
their rifles laid out in a row upon the ground, and two or three officers 
counting their caishin and tiger-tailed pouches with an indifference which 
showed they knew nothing of their value. This was a melancholy sight, 
from which I was relieved by some one calling to me from the iron gratii.g 
of a window about forty yards distant. I approached the window, and 
found about one hundred of our men jammed into a small filthy room ; 
and the man who was calling to me wished me to " keep an eye upon the 
disposition of their arms, for," said he, " we find too late that you were cor- 
rect, and if we can get hold of our 'tools' once more, we will go it with a 
looseness." Thus soon did their rejientance commence, and long will it 
continue. 

The balance of our men, as their arms were delivered up, were thrust 
into two other rooms, each distant from the other sixty or eighty steps. 
General Ampudia invited Colonel Fisher and myself to his headquarters. 
Oil the opposite side of the square adjoining the church. In this room was 
seated at a table the cunning Canales, drawing up the "Articles of Capitu- 
lation," which were soon after imposed upon us for what they did not con- 
tain. 

The aggregate number of Toxans engaged in the battle was two hundred 
and sixty-one ; our loss being ten killed, twenty-three badly and several 
slightly wounded. The asgregate number of the Mexican forces engaged 
was {wenty-three hundred and fort}-. Their loss was between seven ami 
eight hundred killed and wounded. We were informed at Matamoras by 
the United States consul and several American and English gentlemen, who 
had it in confidence from the Me.\ican ofHcors, that their loss exceeded 
eight hundred in killed and wounded. Their official report to the war de- 
partment of the amount of ammunition expended in the battle was nine 
hundred cannon cartridges and forty-three thousand musket cartridges, bo- 
sides three hundred rockets, etc., while ours was between fourteen and fif- 
teen hundred of every description. There never has existed, in any ago, 
a nation who understood so well as the Texans this important matter, 
"never to shoot without killing;" and this will explain why a larger pro- 
portion than one to two of our shots took effect in this battle. 

With the permission of General Ampudia, I visited the church thai 
evening to see our wounded, and carried them a quantity of bandages. 
Doctors Sinnickson, Brennem, and Shepherd were then attending them. 
All appeared to be cheerful, though most of them were badly and several 
mortally wounded. I have never yet seen a calamity so great befall Texans 
as to prevent their making fun ; and upon inquiry as to how they were olf 
for rations, they replied, "0 ! we have plenty of brains, general." In the 
same building, one hundred and thirty-six of the enemy's wounded were 
s>tretched out on the floor, many of whom had been shot in the head, and 
their brains had oozed out, from the size of a marble to that of one's fisU 
It was a horrible eight, but will explain what our fun -making wounded 
lio 



3S8 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

meant. The enemy were mostly wounded ra the head and hreast, a largo 
portion of whom died the first night. 

Thus ended the battle of Mier, which, in its moral and political conse- 
quences to our country, was a glorious triumph. It ■was there that the peo- 
ple of Texas demonstrated the practicability of conquering and holding 
that rich valley against immense odds. It was there that the people of 
Texas pursued and fought them nine to one, killing treble their own num- 
ber, and proving themselves invincible to everything but duplicity and 
treachery ; and it was there that the Texan made the sound of his rifle and 
death synonymous terms throughout Mexico. 

On the 31st of December, General Ampudia took up his line of march 
for the City of Mexico, via Matamoras, with his prisoners. They were 
strongly guarcled by artillery behind, and before and on each side by cavalry 
and infantry with fixed bayonets. The men were hurried along at a rapid 
rate, suffering greatly from fatigue and want of water. The first night they 
encamped opposite Comargo. Their blankets had been stolen from them, 
a bleak norther was blowing, and when their scanty fires had burned dowii, 
they raked away the burning coals, .and laid in piles in the ashes to keep 
themselves warm. 

The next day, New Year's day, 1843, they entered Comargo, where com- 
menced the grand menagerie show of the prisoners, which was continued 
during their zig-zag march of one thousand five hundred miles in Mexico. 
They were paraded through the town and around the public-square imder 
the ringing of bells, firing of guns and crackers, and the vivas of the popu- 
lace. Little boys and girls preceded them, displaying long rolls of paper 
with bombastic mottoes — " Glory to the brave Canales — Eternal honor to 
the immortal Ampudia," etc. 

Continuing their march, they were the next night herded in a cow-pen, 
like so many cattle. The fun-makers, to complete the character, dropped 
down upon all-fours, bowed their necks, pawed up the dirt, and lowed like 
bulls, to the no small astonishment of their captors. The next night, their 
lodgings being a sheep-pen, the comedians had a new character to play, and 
it is certain they " bleated more like sheep than any sheep in all Mexico." 
It was of much importance to their captors to get cow-pens to put the cap- 
tives in, and they were often resorted to on the march, for, being walled 
with lofty pickets, they were the more easily guarded. 

On nearing Matamoras many of the prominent citizens came out to meet 
General Ampudia, and to congratulate him upon his victory. "Among 
these," says Green, "were two of our acquaintances, Tom and Usaii. These 
gentlemen, now of so much consequence as to ride three leagues in a coach 
to congratulate General Ampudia upon his splendid victory, were General 
Sam Houston's two barbers, so well known to the public of Texas. Tom 
treated us with marked attention, spoke of his prospects in that country, 
his intended nuptials, invited us to the wedding, and said that General Am- 
pudia was to stand godfather on the occasion. He remarked to General 
Ampudia, upon meeting him, in our presence, 'AVell, general, / to!d you, 
before leaving M.atamoras, that when you met these gentlemen you would 
catch it !' " 

The next day, January 9th, they marched to Matamoras. Says Green: 



OF AMERICANS. 3S9 

•Manj' women and girls came out with joyous countenances to meet tlioir 
husbands and sw-cethearts ; but, ahis ! for them, they had experienced the 
effects of the Texan rifles at Mier, and they returned with heavy liearts 
and bitter lamentations. A triumjihal arch was tlirown across the principal 
street through which we passed at every hundred yards ; and, to make the 
grand pageant as imposing as possible, soldiers were stationed upon each 
side of the street, about thirty feet apart, and what they lacked in soldiers 
they made up for the occasion by placing soldier-clothes upon citizens. 
Our men followed slowly and solemnly up one street and down another, to 
give the popul.ice full opportunity to gaze at and hcii) upon them dirly 
epithets, of which their language is so copious. Among the populace were 
a number of negroes, who had absconded from 'J'exas ; these were among 
the foremost in their abusive epithets, and our men, without the power of 
punishing such insolence, would gnash their teeth in rage." 

In the march from Matamoras, Colonels Fisher and Green, Dr. Shepherd, 
Adjutant Murry, S. C. Lyon, and the interpreter, Daiiiel Drake Ilenrie, were 
each furnished with a horse, placed under an escort of a company of cav- 
alry, and sent on their route in advance of tlie main body. These officers 
were generally treated with kindness. At Monterey, w^hich they reached 
on the 22d of January, they remained six days inmates of the family of 
Colonel Bermudez, a fine hospitable old gentleman, with several beautiful 
daughters. " These amiable ladies," says Green, " to beguile our heavy- 
hours, would sing and jilay upon the guitar and piano for us, and at even- 
ings would invite the Olite of the city, some of them doubtless coming to 
see ns Texans, whom they would introduce as ' muy valiente,' — very brave. 
At these evening coteries, we would endeavor to appear as if nothing had 
happened to us, and join in the dance as lightsome as any. The ladies 
would say, 'What wonderful people you must be ! here you are, prisoners 
in a foreign land, having already passed many dangers, and you must expect 
to fall into hands who will treat you unkindly — for all Mexicans are not 
what they should be — and still you appear as if nothing had befallen you.' 

How delightful it is to witness the salutations of Mexican female friends ! 
they trip across the room to meet each other with a gait superior to that of 
our women, and, instead of grasping the hand, they embrace with a be- 
witching, gossamer, ethereal touch, which cannot properly be described. In 
their ball-dress they look like winged creatures. Most of the Mexican 
dances are exceedingly beautiful ; there is a luxury in the music, and a 
fascinating swing in their women peculiarly winning. Kothing can exceed 
the grace of their quadrilles and conlra-danccs. Their fandango is a lively 
operation, mostly danced by the more common people, in which the gen- 
tleman leads his partner to the center of the room ; here they move face to 
face, the gentleman beating his feet against the floor in admir.ablc time to 
the music, while the lady faces him in a regular monotonous hitch-up and 
back-down step, as uniform as the oscillation of a pendulum. Thus it is 
kept up until each party is relieved by some other groups." 

On the 2Sth, Colonel Fisher and party, under escort, started for Saltillo, 
where they arrived on the 30th. The main body of the prisoners, under 
ch.irge of Colonel Can.iles, with six hundred infantry and cavalry, arrived 
at Saltillo on tlie 5th of February, but not until they had all got one hun- 



390 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

dred and twenty miles, to the hacienda Salado, which was on the 10t}i, did 
any chance offer for private communication between the Texan ofBcers and 
men. The Latter were highly elated, and a plan was at once formed to 
charge their guards at daybreak the next morning, and make a bold stroke 
for liberty. The plot was successfully put into execution the next morning, 
but too late for the assistance or the benefit of the officers, who had been 
sent on with their escort, and had gotten nearly a mile ffom the place when 
the event took place. Green thus narrates the circumstances : 

" The llt.h of February should be an ever memorable day in the history 
of Texan liberty, alike honorable to the country for the spirit in which that 
glorious movement was planned and executed. As our men advanced far- 
ther into the country, the more oppressive became the conduct of those un- 
der whose charge they were. On sundry occasions, the Mexican soldiers 
had been permitted to beat several of them. This was in such gross viola- 
tion of our articles of capitulation, and afforded such a precious foretaste 
of 'Mexican magnanimity,' that they determined not to let slip this last 
opportunity of regaining their liberty ; and the prospect of having their 
officers with them in their glorious enterprise determined the blow. Among 
the privates foremost in the charge, as well as in bringing about the result — 
and to their lasting honor we record their name.s — were Dr. R. P. Brennem, 
S. H. Walker, J. D. Cooke, Colonel William F. Wilson, Patrick Lyons, and 
others. The officers were generally in favor of the attempt; and at the 
appointed time, the lamented Cameron, with a quiet coolness peculiar to 
him in trying emergencies, raised his hat, and giving it a gentle flourish in 
the air, said, in a distinct tone, a little mixed with his Highland brogue, 
'Well, boys, we will go it!' Thus saying, and suiting the action to the 
word, ho grappled one of the sentinels at the inner door of their prison- 
yard, while S. H. Walker seized the other. It was the work of an instant 
to upset and disarm these, and get possession of the outer court, where the 
arms and cartridge boxes were guarded by one hundred and fifty infantry. 
These men were quickly driven out or made to surrender ; and while our 
men were arming themselves and securing ammunition, the cavalry had 
formed in front of the outer gate, which was also guarded by the company 
of 'Red-Caps.' In passing through the gate to charge this company and 
the cavalry, poor Doctor Brennem and Patrick Lyons fell, and several others 
were wounded. That portion of the cavalry which was mounted quickly 
fell back beyond the reach of our fire, while the ' Red-Caps ' retreated round 
the main wall of the buildings to the south, through the gate into the court- 
yard, which our party had just before left. A portion of our men pressed 
around to force this gate, believing still that we were in our quarters. Here 
Captain Fitzgerald received his death-wound, and John Stansbury, quite a 
boy, had his left eye shot out. The company of 'Red-Caps' soon capitu- 
lated, and gave up their arms : the only condition which our men required 
of Colonel Barragan, in releasing them, was, that our wounded should be 
treated kindly. 

We had three killed— Dr. Brennem, Lyons, and Rice. Captain Fitzge- 
rald and John Higgerson were mortally wounded, and died soon after ; and 
Captain J. R. Baker, privates Stansbury, Hancock, Trehern, and Harvey, 
wounded. The enemy's loss was nine or ten killed, and many more badly 



OF AMKiaCAKS. 39] 

wouiiilcd. From the diflieiilty of getting arms in thu commencement of 
llie action, it wus not possible tliat more than one half of our two hunilre<l 
and fourteen men, with the esceiition of those who fought with brickbats, 
could have been engaged. 

Thus it was that the Texans gave the world aiiother evidence of their 
superiority over the Me.xicans, when one hundred unarmed men charged 
three hundred with arms, beat them, disarmed them, and then turned them 
loose as harmless things." 

By ten o'clock a. m., the Texans, to the number of one hundred and 
idnety-three, mounted their horse-s, and took up their lino of march homo- 
ward, leaving their wounded behind. They proceeded on for a day or two 
without especial molestation, when their leader, Captain Edwin Cameron, 
was influenced against his better judgment, to leave the main road and 
take to the mountainii. Had they continued as they started, there is no 
doubt but that they would have got out of the country in safety, as it was 
subsequently ascertained that the Me.xicaus were not in sufficieut force in 
that quarter to make any efl'ectual opposition. Once in the mountains, 
their troubles commenced. The country was too rough for their horses, 
water was very scarce, and they made but little progress. On the night of 
the. 14th, they encamped in a deep gorge of the mountains. The next 
morning they found water, the first they had seen in twenty-four hours. 
At this spot, they determined to kill their fattest horses, jerk the meat, and 
then proceed on foot. So, having stationed sentinels upon the peaks of the 
Ixighest adjoining mountains, thoy led their horses down into the ravine and 
commenced the mournful task. In doing so, no language can describe the 
feelings of these bold men — men who, in battle, had slain their scores of 
Mexicans without winking — when they stood with unsheathed knives be- 
rfide their faithful animals, they found that their bursting hearts had un- 
nerved their arms. Many turned from the effort and wei)t, while others, 
as much affected, performed the bloody deed in conscientious duty to their 
families, their country and liberty. The lamentable groans of the poor 
Iiorses, as the keen steel would press to the heart's core, were distressingly 
painful to hear. Some, in the agonies of death, would squeal and Iloundcr, 
while others would seem to look upon their masters in deep sorrow, and 
press against the fiital blade. This never to be forgotten scene was the work 
of a portion of this day, as some built scafl'olds with fire underneath to dry 
the meat, while others butchered, and some went with gourds still deeper 
into the ravine for water. At three o'clock p. M., tlie water was so nearly 
exhausted that the men could not fill their gourds, when the march was re- 
commenced. At ten o'clock r. u., they encamped iu a deep ravine w ithout 
water." 

They continued on for two or three days in a northerly cour.'^e, siiflering 
terribly for want of water, until the ITth, when, being unable to travel any 
farther, they halted in a deep valley. The sun was pouring down upon 
them with intense power. To screen themselves from its blistering ray.s, 
tkey scattered themselves over the spot, spread their blankets upon thorn- 
bushes, and got underneath them. Water ! water I was the all-pervading 
cry. In the delirium of consuming fires they sought — 
'■The roughest btrry on tlic ruJc.^t Icilgc." 



392 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Some were chewing and eating negro-head and pricklj'-pear leaves, to 
produce moisture in their moutlis, but; these astringents greatly aggravated 
their sufferings; while others, with tongues so parched and swollen that 
they could not close their mouths, were scratching in the shade of bushes 
for cool earth to apply to their throats and stomachs ; yet, even yet, their 
sufferings were to be increased. Wild delirium seized upon those who had 
most freely used the astringent plants, and in their last agony they had re- 
course to their own urinary secretion. This was drinking living fire ! and 
this they knew, for many were men of education ; but still they drank and 
drank ! Several expired, and all prayed for death to relieve them. The 
phosphate of lime contained in this liquid produces a consuming agony far 
worse than death without it. 

In the meantime, so slow had become their progress, that the Mexicans 
had time to rally and gather a large force to intercept them. That evening 
the fires of the Mexican cavalry camp were discovered in advance, illumin- 
ating the heavens. When the day dawned, the Texans were scattered, ex- 
hausted, and having thrown away their arms from mere inability to carry 
them, they had no other resource but to surrender to a force which, had 
they kept the original roa<l, they could easily have beaten. 

Now began the return march to Solado. Their captors tied them in 
jiairs with cords of rawhide. These were exchanged at San Antonio for 
handcuffs. Notwithstanding this precaution, the Mexirans showed great 
apprehension lest another ch.irge would be made upon them, for they would 
not allow tbe Texans to stand up in camp. Under all these cruelties, the 
men bore up with astonishing fortitude. They received their irons with 
smiles, promised a fair remuneration the first opportunity, and concluded 
the evening's entertainment by telling old tales and singing, to the utter 
astonishment of their captors. 

On the 25th of March, they arrived at Solado, when the melancholy in- 
telligence was received that they were to be decimated, and each tenth man 
shot. Full particulars of the bloody drama which ensued are thus given 
by Green : "It was now too late to resist this horrible order. The men 
were closely ironed and drawn up in front of all their guards, with arms in 
readiness to fire. Could they have known it previously, they would have 
again charged their guards, and made them dearly pay for this last perfidi- 
ous breach of national faith. It was now too late ! A manly gloom and a 
jiroud defiance pervaded all countenances. They had but one alternative, 
and th.at was to invoke their country's vengeance upon their murderers, 
cunsign their souls to God, and die like men. 

The decimator. Colonel Domingo Huerta, who was especially nominated 
to this black deed, had arrived at Solado ahead of the men. The ' Eed- 
Cap ' company were to be their executioners — those men whose lives had 
been so humanely spared by the Texans at this place on the 11th of Feb- 
ruary. The decimation took place by the drawing of black and white beans 
from a small earthen mug. The white ones signified exemptiaii, and the 
black death. One hundred and fifty-nine white beans were jjlaced in the 
bottom of the mug, and seventeen black ones were placed upon the top of 
tliem. The beans were not stirred, and had so slight a shake that it was 
perfectly clear they had not been mixed together. Such was their anxiety 



OP AMERICANS. 393 

to execute Captain Cameron, and perhajjs the balance of tlie ofliccrs, that 
first Cameron, and afterward they, wore made to draw a bean eacli, from the 
mug in this condition. 

As the gallant Cameron stepped up, he said, with his usual coolness : 
'Well, boys, we have to draw; let's be at it!" So saying, he thrust his 
hand into the mug, and drew out a white bean. Next came Colonel Wm. 
F. Wilson, who was chained to him ; then Captain Wm. Ryan, and then 
Judge F. M. Gibson, all of whom drew white beans. Next came Captain 
Eastland, who drew the first black one, and then followed the balance of 
the men. They all drew their beans with that manly dignity and firmness 
which showed them superior to their condition. Some of lighter temper 
jested over the bloody tragedy. One would say, 'Boys, this beats raffling 
all to pieces !' another, ' This is the tallest gambling scrape I was ever in 1' 
and such like remarks. None showed change of countenance ; — and as the 
black beans failed to depress, so did the white fail to elate. The knocking 
ofi" the irons from the unfortunate alone told who they were. Poor Kobort 
Beard, lying upon the ground near by exceedingly ill, and nearly exhausted 
from his forced marches and sulferings, called his brother William, who was 
bringing him a cup of water, and said, ' Brother, if you draw a black bean, 
I'll take your place ; I want to die.' The brother, with overwhelming an- 
guish, replied, ' No, I will keep my own place ; I am stronger and better 
able to die than you.' These noble youths drew clear, but both soon after 
died, leaving this last Roman legacy to their venerable parents in Texas. 
Several of the Mexican officers who officiated in this cruel violation of 
their country's faith, expressed great dissatisfaction thereat, and some wept 
bitterly. Soon after, the fated were placed in a separate courtyard, where, 
about dark, they were executed. 

Several of the men were permitted to visit the unfortunate previously to 
the execution, to receive their dying requests. Poor Major Cocke, when he 
first drew the fatal bean, held it up between liis fore-finger and thumb, and 
with a smile of contempt, said, 'Boys, I told you so ; I never failed in my 
life to draw a prize I' and then he said to Judge Gibson, 'Well, Judge, say 
to my friends that I died in grace !' The judge, much aflected at this last 
sad parting, showed it from his tears. The major replied, ' They only rob 
mo of forty years,' and then sat down and wrote a sensible and dignified 
letter of remonstrance to General Waddy Thompson, theUnited States Min- 
ister in Mexico ; and, knowing that his remains would be robbed of his 
clothes after his death, drew off his pantaloons, handed them to his surviv- 
ing conuades, and died in his under-clothes. 

Poor Henrv Whaling, a native of Indiana, and one of Cameron's best 
fighters, as ho drew his black bean, said, witli as bright a look as ever lighted 
man's countenance, 'Well, they don't make much oft" me, any how; lor I 
know I have killed twenty-five of the yellow-bellies;' then demanding his 
dinner, in a firm tone, he continued, 'They shall not cheat me out of it,'— 
and ate heartily, smoked a cigar, and in twenty minutes after w.is launched 
into eternity ! The Mexicans said that this man h»d tlie biggest heart of 
any they ever saw. They shot him fifteen times before he expired. 

Poor Torrey, quite a youth, but in spirit a giant, said that he was 'per- 
fectly wiUiug to meet his fate : that for the glory of his country he fought. 



394 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

and for her glory he was willing to die ;' and, turning to the officer, said : 
'After the battle of San Jacinto, my family took one of your prisoner 
youths, raised and educated him, and this is our requital.' 

Edward Este spoke of his fate with the coolest indifference, and said that 
he would rather be shot than dragged along in this manner. 

Cash said, 'Well, they murdered my brother with Colonel Fannin, and 
they are about to murder me.' 

J. L. Jones said to the interpreter, ' Tell the officer to look upon men who 
are not afraid to die for their country. 

Captain Eastland behaved with the most patriotic dignity; he desired that 
his county should not particularly avenge his death, but for her own honor 
he implored her never to lay down her arms until the most ample repara- 
tion and her unconditional freedom should be secured. He said, ' I know 
that some have thought me timid, but, thank God, death has no terrors for 
me.' 

Major Robert Dunham said ' he was prepared to die, and would to God 
that he had a chance to do the same thing over again ; that he gloried in 
the demonstration they had made, which showed Texans without arms lo 
be more than equal to Mexicans with them.' 

James Ogden, with his usual equanimity of temper, smiled at his fate, 
and said, ' I am prepared.' 

Young Robert W. Harris behaved in the most unflinching manner, and 
called upon his companions to avenge the murder, while their flowing tears 
and bursting hearts, invoking heaven for their witness, responded nobly to 
the call. 

They one and all invoked their country to do both them and herself jus- 
tice. Captain Cameron, in taking leave cf these brave men, and particularly 
of TwrnbuU, a brother Scotchman, with whom he had been in many dan- 
gers, wept bitterly, and implored the officers to execute him and spare his 
men. 

Just previous to the firing they were bound together with cords, and their 
eyes being bandaged, they were set upon a log near the wall, with their 
backs to their executioners. They all begged the officer to shoot them in 
front, and at a short distance; that 'they were not afraid to look death 
in the face.' This he refused, and, to make his cruelty as refined as possi- 
ble, fired at several paces, and continued the firing from ten to twelve min- 
utes, lacerating and mangling these heroes in a manner too horrible for de- 
scription. 

The interpreter, who was permitted to remain with them to the last, says 
that 'fifteen times they wounded that iron-nerved soul, Henry Whaling;' 
and it would seem that Providence had a special care in prolonging his ex- 
istence, that he might demonstrate to his enemies the national character 
they had to contend with ; for he gritted his teeth at and defied them in 
terms of withering reproach, until they placed a gun to his head and blew 
his brains against the wall. Such was the eflect of this horrible massacre 
upon their own soldiers, who were stationed as a guard upon the wall above, 
that one of them fainted, and came near falling over, but was caught by his 
comrades. During the martyrdom of these noble patriots, the mai'n body of 
the men were separated from them by a stone wall of some fifteen feet in 



OF AMERICANS. 395 

height, and heard their last agonized groans with feelings of wliiih it would 
he mockery to attempt the description." 

After this horrible tragedy, the main body of tlie Toxaiis were marched 
on the road to tlie City of Mexico, a distance of five hundred miles. Their 
sufferings were dreadful. Many died on the journey; others, too worn 
down to travel, were left in hospitals on the route, from which miserable 
Kinks few ever returned. Among the incidents of their journey, the follow- 
ing is given by Green : 

"After thirty days' march, they arrived at the village of Uueluietoca, 
seven leagues from the City of Mexico, where they \vere all crowded to- 
gether in a room too small to admit of their lying down, and into which not 
a breath of air could enter when the door was closed. In a very little time 
the air became so imi^ire, from the exhaustion of the oxygen, that the 
candles went out, and respiration became exceedingly difficult. The men 
in vain appealed to the guards at the door to let in fresh air, and when 
death the most cruel stared them wholesale in the face, as a Irisi alternative, 
they had recourse to cutting holes in the door with their iKicUel-knives, 
and alternately breathing at these small orifices. 

This was, indeed, as the Mexican soldiers called it, la nochc tn'sle, — 'the 
sad night.' Their march of many leagues the day before, through an in- 
nufTerable dust, a burning sun, the want of food and water, and then at 
night not even space sufficient of the stone floor to lie upon, and a suffocat- 
ing atmosphere to breathe, was not their full measure of woo. About eight 
o'clock at night, a menial murderer, with a pair of epaulettes upon his 
shoulders, and a guard of about a dozen men, under broad-brimmed hats, 
arrived with orders from the tyrant, S^inta Anna, to shoot their leader, the 
bold and beloved Captain Ewin Cameron. 

The next morning, after the men were marched for the City of Mexico, 
he was taken out in the rear of the village to the place of execution. A 
priest, the usual attendant of Mexican executions, was in waiting, and when 
Cameron was asked if he wished to confess to the father, he [)romptly an- 
swered, 'No! thronghout life I believe that I have lived an upright man, 
and if I have to confess, it shall be to my Maker.' His arms were then 
tied with a cord at the elbows and drawn back, and when the guard ad- 
vanced to bandage his ej-es, he said to his interpreter: 'Tell them. No! 
Ewin Cameron can now, as he has often before done for the liberty of 
Texas, look death in the face without winking 1' So saying, ho threw his 
hat and blanket uijon the ground, opened the bosom of his hunting-shirt, 
presented his naked breast, and gave the fatal command — ' Fire !' " 

Arrived in the City of Mexico, the major part of the Texans were placed 
at most disgusting employments. Some were driven forth into the 'ftreotJ 
with sticks and bayonets by brutal overseers, as scavengers of filth too hor- 
rible to contemplate. Others, heavily ironed, were placed at work upon tho 
pavement in front of the archbishop's palace. Disease and death rapidly 
thinned their numbers. The survivors, naked and emaciated, were eventu- 
ally consigned to the dungeons of Perote and San Juan d' Ulloa. Few of 
them escaped, many died, and the remainder were liberated in the latter 
part of the year 1844, through the intervention of Governor Shamion, the 
then United States Minister in Mexico. 



39G ADYKNTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

As tlie reader lias been previously informed, Colonel Green's party had 
got fairly started on their journey on the morning of the rising of the pris- 
oners at Salado. They however were fully apprised of the event by the 
discharge of the musketr_y, and soon had the pleasure of seeing the Mexi- 
can cavalry and infantry scampering in every direction, hither and thither, 
leaving clouds of dust behind them. Then, after a little pause, borne upon 
the still morning air, came loud shouts of victory from the Texans. 

"At this time," says Green, "a lieutenant came up at full speed, with 
orders from Colonel Barragan to Captain Romano, to shoot us and come im- 
mediately to his assistance. Both his countenance and actions showed de- 
termination to execute the order. He ordered his men to reprime their 
escqpeias and make ready, which was instantly done. This was a critical 
moment, and it was necessary to be met with coolness and promptness on 
our part. Colonel Fisher and myself asked him, ' if he was most bound to 
obey the orders of Governor Ortega, to take us to Mexico, or any subse- 
quent order of Colonel Barragan ;' and that we expected ' we were in the 
hands of a gentleman and soldier, not a murderer.' His eyes were instantly 
lowered to the pommel of his saddle, and his countenance underwent hesi?- 
tation, change and satisfaction in as many seconds, when he raised himself 
in his stirrups, and, proudly clapjiing his hand upon his bosom, ordered the 
interpreter to say to the gentlemen, ' that they ore in the hands of a (jentkrium 
and a soldier, and that / will carry out Governor Ortega's orders.' Thus 
saying, our horses' heads were wheeled toward Mexico, and we were forced 
on, at full speed, by the lancers on each side of us." 

By very rapid traveling, the prisoners reached San Luis Potosi on tlie 
23d, where their number was augmented by sixteen of their companions, 
who, having remained behind at Salado, were again taken into captivity. 

In their journey through the country, they were subjected to more or 
less of brutality from their guards and from the people. " The only com- 
passion we met," says Green, "was in the countenances of the females. In 
my intercourse with the world, I have had frequent occasion to observe that 
women were better than men ; in Mexico this observation is forced upon 
you at every village." 

Some amusing incidents occurred on the route. "On one cftcasion," say.s 
Green, " a Mexican officer asked us where our musicians were ? W'e an- 
swered, 'We are all musicians in Texas.' 'Upon what instrument do you 
perform ?' 'Upon the rifle,' we answered — when suddenly the muscles of 
their faces would elongate from the pleasant to the most inexpressible blank. 
On this and similar occasions, when we would quiz them — and we let no op- 
portunity pass for so doing — they would always come to the conclusion that 
we were a strange people. 

It has been said that 'a Texan is born with a rifle in his hand,' and with 
equal truth it may be said, that 'the Mexican is born with a rope in his,' 
for at every Mexican settlement we noticed the children, from knee high 
and upward, with little ropes, catching the ducks and chickens. It ap- 
peared to be their only amusement; and they would throw them with re- 
markable certainty. The old roosters and drakes, that had been often taken 
in this manner, seemed to know how useless it was to attempt escape, ami 
would f(puit to receive the rope when they saw it coming. In Mexico, tho 



OF AMF.r.ICAKS. 397 

lasso is used for cutcliing every animal, from a wild bull to the lamest dung- 
hill fowl; nor is its use unknown in recruiting ihcir ' volunteers ' for the 
army. Our comrades used to say, that 'these blanketed, pepper-eating fel- 
lows would not believe a thing was caught unless it was dono with a rope.' " 

In about a mouth's continuous traveling, the party reached the famous 
Castle of Perote, the place of their destination, situated about one hundred 
miles east of the City of Mexico, on the road to Vera Cruz. They entered 
in by a winding entrance, crossed a drawbridge over the great moat, and 
passed through an archway into a large plaza in front of the prisoners' quar- 
ters. Tlie bugle's blast, the roll of drums, and the din of arms and the 
clank of chains, which then sainted their ears, opened their eyes to the 
reality of imprisonment. There they met, in rags and chains, fifty of their 
countrymen, who had been kidnapped from their homes in Bexar, Texas, 
early in the preceding autumn. 

The Castle of Perote is celebrated in Mexican history. It is built in an 
elevated valley between mountains in the vicinity of the lofty Orazabo, with 
its beautiful conical peak rising to the heavens and crowned with perpetual 
snow. Although one hundred miles from the coast, it is seen from vessels 
far out at sea, long before the intervening low-lands rise in view. The 
nearness of the castle to the snow-covered mountains, its altitude, and its 
shaded position such that the sun's rays reach it but for a few hours in the 
day, renders it an extremely cold place. It is quadrangular in form, and 
occupies about twent3'-six acres of ground. It is built princijially of vol- 
canic stone. The main wall is sixty feet in height. Within it is a ditch 
or moat some twenty feet in depth and two hundred feet in width. Inside 
of the moat are the main buildings, containing soldiers' barracks, work- 
shops, stables, cells for the prisoners, etc. The center is a paved courtyard 
or plaza, five huiulred feet square, used as a military parade-ground. The 
walls are defended by eighty jiieces of artillery. The whole works were 
the labor of many years, and cost several millions of dollars; and but for 
the late improvements in the art of war it would be impregnable. Snch is 
the great prison-house of Mexico, in which many a Texan, after dwindling 
out a miserable existence in chains and slavery, in rags and hunger, has at 
last perished,* far from home and friends. 

Before the prisoners were ironed, they had the privilege of walking about 
certain parts of the castle for three days. The time was w-eil spent in ex- 
amining the place, estimating its strength, etc. Near the cells occupied by 
the Bexar men wore the rooms of the Mexican chain-gang, convicts guilty 
of every species of crime, and almost without an exception sunk to the very 
lowest depths of human degradation. One of these fellows boasted that 
"it was the fourth time he had been imprisoned for rape, and it would not 
be the last ;" another, clapping his hand upon his breast, in the proudest 
tone, said, " I am no ladrone (thief) ; I am placed liere for murder !" In 
Mexico, murder is considered more honorable than theft, though the ma- 
jority would steal the value of a pin. The most genteel man among these 
convicts was in for killing a priest, who was caught kissing his wile. Ho 
had been in good circumstances, but in killing a priest, such was the influ- 
ence of the church, that all his money could not save him. His wife fol- 
lowed him to prison, with a devotion not uncommon among the women of 



393 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Mexico, lie was a tall, graceful man, about thirty-five years of age, and 
his keen black eye and Eoman nose bespoke a temper fierce as a lion ; nor 
did they belie him. His first act in chains was to beat one of the turnkeys 
spverely for treating him as if he were merely a common prisoner. 

"In the next room," says Green, "and to the right of our Bexar prison- 
ers, myself and fifteen companions of the Mier men were lodged. At sis 
o'clock in the evening, all the prisoners were counted and turned into their 
respective cells, where they remained until six the next morning, when the 
doors were again ojiened. At nine o'clock, we were, as usual, counted, and 
turned over to the ofiicer of the new guard ; at which time our men wero 
made first to take the filth out of the oastle in handbarrows, and after that 
to pack in stone and sand to repair the fortification. The stone they had to 
pack from over a mile and a half from the mountain ; the sand a shorter 
distance. In the performance of this labor, our men, being chained in 
pairs by the anklo with large log-chains, and only about four feet between 
them, had to walk very close together, and on each hand was a file of 
guards with fixed bayonets to keep them in order. 

At nine o'clock of the fourth day after our incarceration, the Mier men 
■were ordered to stand aside to receive their chains, a full tun of which had 
been brought out and laid in a heap, with a corresijonding quantity of cum- 
brous, rudely-made clevises to fit around the ankles. Here stood the fat 
old officer in charge, a Captain Gozeman, who, from the immense protubeB- 
ance of his abdominal region, our boys dubbed ' Old Guts.' Tliis genius 
was exceedingly civil at times. He desired Colonel Fisher and myself to 
make choice of our chain ; but, if fact, there was no choice between them, 
the lightest weighing about twenty pounds — and, even if there had been 
any difi"erence, neither of us was in a temper to make the choice. I felt 
that placing those irons upon me would make Mexico greatly my debtor, 
which some day I would cancel with most usurious interest. We held out 
each a foot, the one a right and the other a left,.and the son of Vulcan riv- 
eted us together, as though We had been a pair of unbroken oxen just being 
introduced to the yoke. It is the habit of soldiers, in walking together, to 
step at the same time with their right feet, and then with their left; but 
these chains subverted this well-established and strictly-obse'rved custom, 
as, one being chained by the right and the other by the left anklo, those 
even and odd had to move together, or they would pay the penalty by a 
severe jerk. Colonel Fisher and myself being first ironed, we laughed at 
the 'jewelry,' as the boys called the chains, but it was the laugh of a con- 
suming vengeance. We started to our cells, and upon reaching our apart^ 
raent, we looked out for the means of breaking so large a chain. Texans 
are a most ingenious people, and are usually equal to the emergency. — We 
soon found means to accomplish our purpose. 

Our companions, in turn, were all ironed, and many were the devices they 
resorted to in order to free themselves from their chains when not in the 
presence of the officers. In that horribly cold place, sleeping upon the cold 
pavement, and with the still colder iron for your bedfellow, is no very en- 
viable situation. Some would bribe the blacksmith to make them leaden 
instead of iron rivets, which, when blackened with charcoal, had much the 
appearance of iron, while they could be easily taken out and reheaded. 



OF AMERICANS. 399 

One mclio ^vo^^ld buy a leaden rivet; and for some time this )-u«ewas prac- 
ticed. Frequently, however, when the officers would enter our cells, they 
■would find our comrades without chains, and as suddenly every fellow 
would jump to his 'jewelry,' and clam]) it on with a magic celerity, which 
entirely bewildered the senses of the officers, and then as suddenly put on 
n demure, inofTensivo countenance, after the manner of school-boys cutting 
up their juvenile antics upon the sudden appearance of the pedagofjuo. 
Our old friend with the largo corporation, after much fretting about our not 
wearing the 'jewelry,' told the governor 'that it would take as many black- 
smitlis to keep us ironed as there were Texans in the castle.' " 

Fisher and Green being officers were excused from labor. The time, 
however, passed heavily, and the coldness of their quarters and the want of 
proper food so affected their health, that the surgeon ordered their irons to 
be taken off, when they bad full liberty to walk about the castle uncon- 
trolled. The anniversary of the battle of San Jacinto approaching, the 
prisoners made preparations to celebrate the event. They purchased a few 
gallons of vino mascal, a quantity of ass's milk, and several dozens of eggs, 
and such egg-nogg was compounded "as never before was seen or drank 
under the nineteenth degree of north latitude. We went around to tlie 
prison rooms, and summoned all hands to attend the thanksgiving. When 
these noble fellows stood round the bowl in rags, with tjjeir 'jewelry' riv- 
eted upon their ankles, brought up and tied around the waist with a cord 
hanging in a graceful festoon between each pair, the sight filled my heart to 
overflowing. Though the body was oppressed, they looked like caged 
lions, and every face bespoke the invincible spirit of a freeman." 

Various toasts were drank amid cheers and songs. Daniel Drake Uenrio 
f^xta his best ditties with unusual eloquence — " Long, long Ago," " The Sol- 
dier's Tear," etc. "Thus," continues Green, "wo were getting along swim- 
mingly, when our liberty-shouts rose high above the walls of the prisoi>, 
and alarmed our keepers. They supposed that we intended to swallow 
them and take the castle. When our fat captain came round with the guard 
to know the cause of the riot, we told him it was a mode we had in our 
country of celebrating our saints' days, and hoped he would not disturb us 
in our worship, as we did not disturb him in his. He replied, ' Bueno, 
sawr,' — Very well, sir, — and started, when wo gave the wink to Trimble. 
Upon this, Trimble squared himself, rolled his eyes over in their sockets, 
twisted his bead 'clean round' on his shoulders, and gave a whoop that beat 
the best of owls." 

The prisoners were very much troubled with Termin. The first business 
of the morning was louse-hunting. Usually several dozen of these dis- 
gusting vermin were discovered upon each of the men. At times, when 
one of these animals showed himself particularly fioet on foot, he w;is cap- 
tured and saved for the races — for the Texans .soon fell into the customs of 
the place. Says Green: "This very delicate pursuit of louse-racing has 
Ion" been known in Mexican prisons as one of the verv few amusements of 
those dull regions. The races come ofi" in the following manner: i no 
Mexican prisoners draw a circle upon a beef's hide about eighteen inches in 
diameter, inside of which they draw a smaller one, and in tlie center of this 
lliey make a holy cross — even to this vile purpose is that emblem of purity 



400 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

prostituted ! Tbe racers are placed on the outfide of the inner ring, and 
the one that first crosses the double ring, and arrives at the holy goal, wins 
the stakes. We have witnessed the most ludicrous scenes around these 
pools. 

As the tiny animals start, their owners become as much excited, doubt- 
loss, as those of Fashion and Boston at their great race. They jump and 
climb over each other to get a better view : it is, 'Hurra for the white,' and 
'Well done for the red,' and many such expressions, accompanied with the 
most antic capers, each countenance being expressive of different degrees of 
hope and despair, according to the locality of their respective coursers. 
On these funny occasions, we have stood off to watch the countenances of 
the parties interested, and have witnessed grimaces which would have 
shaken the pencil from the hand of Hogarth. The only thing comparable 
to it are the negroes around a cock -pit, on a AVhitsuntide in North Carolina 
or Virginia, a festival of ancient fashion in those good old States, where the 
negroes are as free of constraint as were the slaves of Kome on their 
Saturnah'a. 

The Texan prisoners thus simplified this mode of racing: they drew a 
charcoal circle upon a plank, in the center of which the racers were turned 
loose, at a given signal, and the one that ' first crosses the black ring is the 
winner.' " 

Green, growing wearied with confinement, and fully imbued with the 
great American desire, i. e.., to improve his condition, determined to escape or 
perish in the attempt. The project required caution, coolness, and calcula- 
tion. He made known his determination to Captain Reese, who agreed" to 
join him in the enterprise. Their first plan was to escape by scaling the 
walls, and they had all their arrangements perfected to that end, when they 
learned that in one of the prison rooms which contained thirty-six of their 
counti-ymen, a few lion-hearted fellows had determined also to make the 
attempt. They had commenced the operation of going through an eight 
feet wall ; Green and Reese thought it best to join them, and all escape to- 
gether. Green says : 

"Our arched cells were twenty feet wide by seventy long, with a door at 
one end opening in the castle, and a loophole at the other opening upon 
the outside, underneath which is the great moat. This loophole is a small 
aperture, upon the outside about four by twelve inches, and gradually 
widening through the eight feet wall upon the inside to about two feet. 
Could we have pursued this aperture by widening it, our labor would have 
been less ; but soon we found, from the hard character of the stones, and 
the secure fastenings immediately around the hole, ditBculties which, with 
our poor means of operating, were impossible to surmount. We conse- 
quently struck off to the left, leaving these difficulties entirely to our right, 
and prepared to bore through the solid masonry. 

To avoid discovery, both from the sentinel at the door and the officers 
when they came in the room upon inspection, a careless rap upon the door 
or post by our lookout man, was sufficient for our operator in the hole to lie 
low. These men engaged in the work alternately, as only one at a time 
could operate, and ho was secreted by the shutter inclosing the loophole, 
and blankets carefully hung about it. The labor was extremely tiresome. 



OF AMERICANS. 401 

as the hole hail to be m;ulc horizontally through the wall, and consequently 
required the operator to lay upon his abdomen, and rest upon his elbows, 
which position, after a few hours, became very painful. After making his 
tour, ho would gather up the fragments of stone and mortar which his labor 
had detached, and bury them under some loose stone and brick in the floor. 
As the quantity thus buried would raise the pavement too high, it would be 
taken out under our blankets, and emptied into the comun — privy. 

The tools with which we operated were narrow, inferior carpenter's chis- 
els — the Mexican tools were generally of an inferior kind, which our car- 
penters would bring from the shop. As a water-drip will wear away the 
hardest granite, so the breach in the wall, in the course of a few weeks, 
gradually grew deeper imder our incessant labor. This work was princi- 
jmlly accomplished by drilling holes into the stone and mortar with a chisel 
and prying off small pieces ; and frequently, after a day's hard labor, not 
more than a hatful could be disengaged. The greatest difBculty, however, 
was, that as the hole grew deeper, it grew smaller, and the position of the 
operator rendered it next to impossible to avoid this difficulty ; so that when 
the hole reached the outside of the wall, it had a funnel shape, the outer 
end being reduced to ten by fourteen inches. On the first day of July, the 
hole had been drilled down to a thin shell on the outer side, which could 
be easily burst out, after the final preparation was made for leaving. 

For some weeks previous to our escape, those who intended to go were 
busily engaged, every safe opportunity, in completing their arrangements — 
fixing their knap.sacks, saving all the broad they could procure, laying aside 
every cent to purchase fat bacon and chocolate. We considered it impru- 
dent to start with less than two weeks' rations each, as we calculated to be 
all of that time in the mountains before venturing into a settlement to re- 
plenish our stores. 

It was considered the safest plan, after getting out of the castle, to jiair 
off, and not more than two or three go together, as, the smaller the com- 
pany, the more easily they could secrete themselves, the whole not being 
suificent to carry on either offensive or defensive operations to advant.age. 
Under this arrangement, I had selected Dan. Drake Henrie, mainly on ac- 
count of his speaking the language of the country. 

Several, who had previously determined to come, from prudential mo- 
tives, now declined it, as they considered, and very rightly, that getting 
through the walls of the prison was the least difficult part of the undertak- 
ing. To escape several hundred miles through an enemy's country, speak- 
ing au unknow-n tongue, was a difficulty which could not be too cautiously 
weighed. If retaken, all calculated to bo shot ; and we farther calculated 
the chances of success greatly against reaching our country in safety. 

Knowing President S.inta Anna's personal hostility to myself, and hcliev- 
in'' that all he wanted was some reasonable pretext for having nie shot, I 
believed it was worth my life to be recaptured, and the chances of escajiing 
were ten to one against me. Sixteen of our number finally determined to 
make the effort. 

I left a note upon my table for President Santa Anna, in which I stated, 
that, 'not having been trusted upon my parole, which neither the love of .ifo 
cor fear of death could have induced me to forfeit, and the climate of Perots; 



4,02 ADVENTURES A:SD ACUIEVEMENTS 

not suiting my liealth, I shouki, for the present, retire to one in Texas more 
congenial to my feelings.' 

At half past five o'clock, 1 took leave of my friends, and a sad parting iS 
v/as. Most of those who remained, believed it was a voluntary sacrifice of 
ourselves, and few believed it possible for us to escape. I never shall for- 
get that hour. As we grasped each other's hands, many believing it for the 
last time, the big tear filled the eyes of those brave men, and they wished 
me success wdth an utterance which showed their hearts were overflowing. 

At six o'clock, we heard the turnkey, with his ugly load of securitieu 
clanking their dull music to the blast of many bugles in the great plaza. It 
was a moment of intense excitement, as a discovery of one man out of his 
place would blow up the whole plot. At seven o'clock, we commenced our 
final preparations before emerging from the room. This was to remove the 
shell of the wall yet upon the outside, then to make one end of the rope 
fast inside of the room, and pass it through, by which we would have to let 
ourselves down to the bottom of the moat. M'hen this was done, it was 
found that the breach was too small upon the outside to admit of any but 
the smallest of our men passing through it ; and it required two houre' 
hard work to scale some pieces of stone and mortar from one side of it, so 
as to permit the larger ones to pass. This required until nine o'clock. 

All things being now ready, John Toowig first got into the breach, and, 
feet foremost, drawing his bundle after him, inch by inch, squeezed out, 
and let himself down, hand over hand, about thirty feet, to the bottom of 
the moat. The depth and smallness of the hole rendered this operation 
exceeding slow. Another and another followed, and at half past twelve, 
after three and a half hours' hard labor, all of the sixteen had safely landed. 

I found much difficulty in passing through, though I vrns now reduced 
from one hundred and sixty pwunds, my usual weight, to one hundred and 
twenty. The gradual fuiniel shape of the breach made it like driving a 
pin into an angur-hole, for the deeper we went, the closer tlie fit. The 
smallest of us having gone through first, for fear that the largest might 
hang in the hole and stop it op, it now came to Stone's turn, who was a 
liirge man. Ho hung fast, and could neither get backward nor forward. In 
this situation, being wedged in as fast as his giant strength could force him, 
our frieads on the inside of the room, who had been assisting us, had to 
tie ropes to his hands, and draw him back. This operation was very like 
drawing his arms out of his body, but did not satisfy him. 'I have a wife 
and children at home,' said he, ' and I would rather die than stay here any 
longer : I will go through, or leave no skin on my bones.' So saying, he 
disrobed himself: his great exertion, causing him to perspire freelj', .in- 
swered nearly as well for the second effort as if he had been greased, and 
he went through after the most powerful labor, leaving both skin and flesh 
behind. 

John Young, if anything, was a larger man than Stone, but was much 
his junior in years ; he was as supple as a snake, and no Roman gladiator 
ever exhibited more perfectly-formed muscles ; nor was his determined teni- 
[.er in bad keeping with his physical conformation. He was the last who 
came out; and while the balance of us sat under the side of the wall, we 
feared that it would be impossible for him to get through. Presently, with 



OF AMERICANS. 4O3 

the aid of a dim sky above us, we saw his feet slowly protruding, then hia 
Unees, and when he camo to his hip-joints, hero for many minutes lie luiiig 
f;ist. When this part of his body was cleared, the angular use of his knees 
pwo him additional purchase to work by; but still our boys said, 'Poor 
fellow ! it will be hardly possible for him to get his muscular arras and 
shoulders through.' We sat under him in an agony of feeling not to be 
described, while he ceased not his olTorts. His body was now cleared to his 
shoulders, but still he hung fast. Having the full purcliase of his legs, he 
would writhe, first up and down, and then from side to side, with herculean 
strength ; and when he disengaged himself, if it was not like the drawing 
of a cork from a porter-bottle, it was with the low, sullen, determined growl 
of a lion." 

As the castle bell tolled half past twelve, the whole party were in the 
open common outside of the castle. Here they divided into pairs, and 
after shaking hands and wishing each other good hick, they separated, each 
pair endeavoring to make the best way it could to the country a thousand 
miles distant on the other side of the Uio Grande. 

Colonel Green and "Dan" (Dan. Drake Henrie) started in the direction 
of Vera Cruz, following on the main road. In about an hour they were 
overtaken by Reese and Toowig, and the four kept on in company. Near 
d.aylight, they left the road, and for safety turned off to the right and made 
for the mountains. In a short time they had ascended so far as to leave all 
the settlements far below. At daybreak, they selected a dark cove and 
hiid down to rest. Just before sundown, they started .ogain and traveled all 
night, and the next morning again stopped to rest through the day. This 
course was followed for several days. 

With the assistance of a map and pocket compass, they ascertained their 
general course, but the almost bottomless ravines and inaccessible moun- 
tains succeeded so rapidly that their progress was slow and fatiguing beyond 
all expression. It was in the midst of the rainy season, and they were wet 
continually, which, in the lofty altitude they were traveling, occasioned in- 
tense suffering from the cold. The rain, too, made the sides of the moun- 
tains almost as slippery a.s soap. Weak from their long confinement in 
[iiison, and sore and stiff from cold and rains, they frequently slipped and 
fell with great violence. One dark night, they had a most narrow escape, 
which Green thus details : 

"Our course was over an excessively broken country, alternate mountains 
and valleys of exceeding height and fearful depth. Briers, thornbushes, 
and sharp stones impeded our progress, and made the labor of the foremost 
much the most difficult. Accordingly, we alternately took the lead. When 
it camo to my turn to lead, we fell into a path comparatively level, whicli 
we pursued several hundred yards, carefully keeping the end of my walk- 
ing-stick always ahead of me about two feet, feeling the way. At length I 
felt no bottom, and from habit stopped as quick as thought, not making an- 
other step, at the same time speaking to my comjianions behind to halt. 
Stooping down where I stood, with my walking-cane I reached as far as my 
arm would allow, but still I found no bottom ; and, after laying down and 
straining our eyes, we discovered the appearance of tree-toiw far below us. 
Changing our course, we felt our way down a steep descent of at least one 
2G 



40i ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

mile to a valley, the creek through which washed the base of the danger- 
ous precipice we had just escaped. How inscrutable are the ways of Prov- 
idence 1 One step more, myself, then Eeese, and then Dan would have 
fallen a thousand feet ! — forno alarm from the foremost would have reached 
the next — leaving no one on earth a knowledge of our destiny !" 

When they looked back upon their narrow escape, they likened it to 
the " Valley of Death." Daylight found them again, as usual, lying under 
their wet blankets iu some thick bushes. Erom the distance and general 
course traveled, they believed themselves not far from the Cit}' of Jalapa. 
The ne.xt night they heard the ringing of the city bells. Having understood 
that the city lay in a valley between two mountains, which were then 
plainly discernible in the light moonlight, they understood for the first 
time their precise locality. 

At first they thought to avoid the city by leaving it to the right ; but the 
more they tried to avoid it, the thicker seemed the settlements — so they 
concluded to enter the town and play their game boldly. By Indian file 
they passed up one street and down another, under their broad-brimmed 
•ranohero hats, their shoulders covered by their blankets. To the frequent 
"quien viva" of the sentinels they made no reply, but continued silently 
on. The town was swarming with dogs, which, as if knowing they were 
strangers, kept up a continual barking as they moved on. At daylight they 
secreted themselves on an insulated conical mound of several hundred feet 
in height in the outskirts of the city, where they remained all day hid in 
the weeds. At dusk, they again went into the town and took up their 

quarters with an old and faithfully tested Mexican, Don . As they 

entered his house, they found his good senora preparing a warm supjjer, 
"with a most delightful toddy mixed." Our narrator continues : 

"Here we remained five days, and were treated with a kindness by these 
good people we never shall forget. Mexican women are kind-hearted to a 
degree, which makes their goodness contrast singularly with the vices of 
the men. Our feet and legs were bathed and poulticed ; and we sent out 
and purchased good shoes, and all the paraphernalia of the mountain ran- 
diero, preparatory to our farther journey. At ten o'clock of the sixth night, 
the Don said to us, 'Prepare to follow me, and ask no questions.' We did 
so, and ho led ns through the city into a dark valley about two miles off; 
where, after telling us to hide in the bushes, he went about one hundred 
yards farther down the hollow, and bringing a shrill whistle, a tall, well- 
made, active man, about thirty-five years of age came to him. A very few 
words passed between them, they having been together the night previous, 
and perfected all arrangements. The moon shone bright ; they came in 
tlie direction of where we were concealed in the shade of some bushes, and 
called to us to come forth. 'This man,' said the Don, 'you must follow- 
but ask no questions. My express ahead will complete every arrangement 
for you in Vera Cruz, and be under no alarm as to the result— this man 
knows his business.' BoUi the place and circumstances wore much the ;iir 
of mystery: it looked like 'treason, stratagem,' and murder; and to our 
question, 'Might not this fellow betray us for the reward ?' 'No,' said the 
Don; 'I have looked to that. 'He,' pointing to our conductor, 'is the 
most noted robber and murderer in Mexico, and is in more danger of losing 



OF AMERICANS. ^qj 

his head than yoii. He dare not show liimself to the aulhoritios.' Thus 
Faying, we took affectionate leave of the generous Don, lie returning to the 
city, and wc following our silent conductor down the hollow. 

Silently, '.n b:n-'.e f.V, we mcved oi. ; r.nu in a disn.al-looking pkce, in a 
second ravine, we came upon his companion, holding hy the' bridle five 
mules and horses. A whistle and the answer told that all was ri"ht. The 
head man placed a bridle into each of our hands without saying a wonl, 
then drew from his goat-skin bag a bottle, out of which he drank, to sati.sfy 
us that it was not poison, and p:uised it to us — we all drank and retnrncd it. 
Stowing it carefully away, he turned to the ea.H, and placing the fore-finger 
of his right hand pei-penuicularly across his lips, which was a caution for 
silence, iwinted in the direction he faced, and gave the sign to mou7it. Wc 
mounted, and followed on a narrow winding path, leading through deep ra- 
vines and broken cliffs, until daylight, not one word passing between us 
during this long ride. At the appe;irance of day he turned off the trail, 
and went into the hollow of a mountain covered with thick shrubbery. 
Here he dismounted, and ginng us the sign, we did the same. Placing by 
our side his goat-skin bags filled with provisions and a gonrd of water, he 
told us that night, precisely at eight o'clock, he would return, and we must 
answer a particular whistle, which he then made. So .saj-ing, he and his 
comrades led awaj' the horses and mules. After (Uiting, we laid ourselves 
upon the ground, and slept soundl}- until near night. 

.\t eight o'clock p. M., we heard the preconcerted whistle, and answered 
it, when our robber guide approached, with the never-failing caution of his 
fore-finger acro.ss his lips. He made the sign to follow, which wo did, and 
after winding through a very rough tract for about a mile, another whistle 
and its response discovered to us his companion holding our animals. 

At the given sign v.-e mounted, and followed this night, as we had done 
the last, under that dead silence, which made our journey the more oppres- 
sive. Our rugged and winding way through the mountains, which caused 
us frequently, in the same hour, to travel to every point of the compass, 
showed that our conductor knew the country well. Our faithful animals, 
so well used to that mountainous region, were astonishingly sure-footod. 
Frequentl}', in passing around almost perpendicular cliffs, in paths exceed- 
ingly stony and frightfully narrow, with a dark abyss on the one hand and 
a perpendicular mountain on the other, the thought of our animals stum- 
bling would make our hair stand on end. Those, however, who are used to 
these paths seem not to apprehend danger, and thej' have the utmost confi- 
dence in their animals, which pick their way with a loose rein, and seem ti> 
know the necessity of a sure foothold. 

Nearly the whole of this night we rode in a heavy rain, .and for two 
hours in the most tremendous storm. About one hour before daylight, wo 
approached the Rio Antigua, near the Puente Naciona?, and across the groat 
road leading from A'era Cruz to the capital. Keeping the river to our right, 
we traveled through a flat marshy bottom until daylight, when wo were 
told to 'dismount and lay low.' We had been drenched the whole night 
with cold rain, and had now to repose in water ankle deep, which covered 
the bottom. Excessive fatigue soon brought sweet sleep lo us, frf m which 
we were aroused at noon by the known whistle of our guide. 



406 ADVEXTURES AND ACITIETEMEXTS 

He had under his blanket a deliglitfully-coolied chicken, eggs, and ior- 
tnias, smoking hot, which showed that ho was in the vicinity of his accom- 
plices. We never enjoyed a meal better. After we had finished eating, he 
threw around his shoulders his dark -colored scrape, and, with his usual 
sign of silence, disappeared through the bushes. 

Everything in this life is good by comparison. We had slept several 
hours, and a sumptuous meal made us feel vastly more comfortable; but, 
yet, we were deprived of our desert, for Dan could neither sing 'Long, 
long Ago,' nor 'The Soldier'.s Tear.' After whispering to one another 
our anecdotes, we slept several hours more, when our well known whistle 
again started us. Our guide approached and beckoned us to follow him. 
After winding through the boggy bottom half an hour, we came to an un- 
occupied hut, built of bamboos, and covered with palm leaves. Here he 
told us we might sleep this night, as he must rest his horses ; that he had 
some friends at hand, and if any alarm should be given, we must disappear 
in the thick bushes near b}-. 

In a short time he again returned, with a new friend, a long gray-bearded, 
though athletic old man. This old man greeted us very kindly, with many 
professions of devotion to our interest, and from his signs we readily recog- 
nized him to bo a brother in the same cause as our guide. We gave him 
two dollars to procure us supper, and, after an absence of an hour, he re- 
turned with one smoking hot, which we the more enjoyed, as our clothes 
were now measurably dry. The old man lived in the immediate neighbor- 
hood, and, true to his promises, he and his family kept a close watch over 
us that night and the next day. 

At sundown our horses were brought up, and an additional one for the 
old gray-headed man, with all his traveling paraphernalia, showed that he 
meant to see us safe through our journey. This veteran, with all the pride 
of many years, mounted upon a gay, plaitcd-tailed charger, rode ahead of 
the party. He was a man of ready words and many compliments ; next to 
him came our head mati, of much less address, who knew that our greatest 
difficulty was yet to be encountered. This night wo met frequent compa- 
nies of smugglers and robbers, but the gray-bearded old man passed them 
with as much ease of address as one could speak to bis neighbor upon a 
court-green. We would follow in our dark robber costume without saying 
a word, and doubtless ])assed as citizens 'in the same trade. 

Our course still lay down the River Antigua, and on the personal estate 
of Santa Anna, through a dense forest of large trees, many of which were 
new to our northern raising. It was necessary that the Antigua should be 
crossed before reaching Vera Cruz, and the only practicable point for doing 
so was at the small town of the same name near its mouth. This place, 
which we entered about ten o'clock at night, has for many years been noted 
for smuggling. Vessels anchor off the mouth of this river, under pretense 
of getting fresh water, which affords them an excellent opportunity to carry 
on the contraband trade. The wide and dense bottom which laj' upon each 
side of this river, interspersed with circuitous paths, known only to smug- 
glers and robbers, affords ample shelter for this illicit trade. Here, our old 
man was well acquainted ; and when we entered the town, he drew tip his 
horee oppo.site a store, with a light burning on the counter, where a Mexi- 



OP AMEIUCAXS. 407 

can cavalry ofllcer was writing at the desk. He whispered to us not to dis- 
mount ; that he would go in and buy some cheese and crackers for our sup- 
per, and ' see how the land lay.' 

Upon entering the Louse, he appeared to he well acquainted, ami rolled 
out his salutations with his usual volubility. The cavalry officer first ad- 
dressed him, ' Who are those upon their horses in the street ? I hiive been 
sent here with my troop these two weeks, with orders to send every for- 
eigner without passports to the Castle of San Juan d'UUoa. Do you know 
that sixteen of those daring Texans have escaped from the Castle of Poroto, 
and several of them are yet abroad ?' Before the old man had time to re- 
ply, the officer added, 'As soon as I finish this note, I will examine their 
papers.' 

The old man, with his read}- wit, replied, ' They have all got passports, 
and from the English minister at that, and they are going home,' at tlic 
same time setting a large tumbler of aguanlknte before the officer, with 
many compliments. He drank to the venerable old man, and resumed his 
writing in much hurry, so as to examine our passports. 

The old man continued talking with his usual volubility, and threw an- 
other dollar upon the counter for more brandy, and before the note was 
finished, the officer had to stop and take another drink. Watching his oi>- 
portunity, the old man slipped out into the street, and spoke to the head 
robber to 'put off in haste, and cross the ferry as soon as possible,' while he 
would stay and drink with the officer. The ferry was at the other end of 
Uio town, about four hundred yards distant, and we made as little delay in 
reaching it and getting into the boat as possible. We had barely started 
from the store before the officer came into the street to examine our papers, 
when the old man remarked that he expected we would wait for him at the 
ferry. The old man now feigned to be highly excited with drink, and 
mounting his fiery horse, swept by them as though he could not control the 
animal. He reached the ferry just as we were getting into the boat, and 
the shortest explanation showed the necessity of our hurry. 

The old man had no sooner spoke to our head robber than he threw his 
lasso over the limb of a tree, and ran back to meet the officer. He knew 
iJiat one minute of time was of the last importance to us ; and meeting the 
officer about one hundred yards from the ferry, he said, ' They are waiting 
for us,' and drawing his bottle of aguardiente from his goat-skin bag, ho 
passed it to the officer; then he took a drink with a long speech of saluta- 
tions, and begged the officer to let him pass it to his guards. This was ac- 
ceded to, and it gained us those few minutes of time necessary to our libcirty. 
When they arrived at the ferry, we were half way across ; the oM man ap- 
peared in a towering passion, and bawled out to us, 'to stop upon the other 
bank until he oame over;' he then turned to the officer and said, ' Senor, 
you need not trouble yourself farther about these foreigners: I'll roiirh for 
their passports ; but if you would rather, you can go over with me and ex- 
amine fur yourself.' In the meantime, while the boat was returning, tho 
bottle was freely passed between them, the old man feigning both to drink 
and to be drunk. It was no sham with the officer, for by the time tho boat 
returned for them, he was willing to take the old man's word for our pass- 
IX)rts. 



40S ADVENTURES AND AClilEVEMEXTS 

As soon as we had crossed, we put off it the dh'eclion of Vera Cruz, and 
stopped upon the roadside to wait for our good old friend, and to keep a 
bright look-out who was with him. In a few minutes the boat recrossod, 
and we discovered that only one passenger was in it ; and as the old man 
galloped to where we waited him, he proudly clapped his hand upon his 
breast and said, ' It is useless for young boys to try their wits upon me ; I 
have been too long in the service.' 

The old fellow strutted to and fro, and recounted the adventure with the 
self-satisfaction of a Wellington after the battle of Waterloo. He finished 
his speech by turning to us and saying, ' Now, cahalkros, you have but one 
more danger before you, and tnift this old head for that.' So saying, we 
moved on." 

They were now within fifteeu miles of Vera Cruz, which was reached 
without any farther incidents of note. There they were secreted iu a secure 
place until an opportunity was afforded, two weeks later, to escape in an 
American vessel to New Orleans. Several of their companions had been 
recaptured ; among these was the herculean John Young, who had fallen 
over a precipice in the mountains, badly crippling himself. 

We close this narrative with Green's account of their leave-taking with 
their robber guides, and the consternation among the Mexicans in the Castle 
of Perote on the discovery of their escape. 

"After we had been safely ensconced in our hiding-pl.ii-o, our three faith- 
ful giddes came to take leave of us. Tliey did so in the most feeling man- 
ner. The gray-bearded old man made the valedictory. He congratulated 
us upon our extreme good luck in falling into the hands of 'hrmorable men,' 
for, said he, 'as humble as your apparel appears to be, you must know that 
there are thousands in this country who would murder you for that dirty 
jacket,' pointing to the one I had on. ' I thank God,' said he, ' that as 
long as I have worn this gray beard, I have never once forfeited m}' word 
of honor.' 

During this speech, he strutted across the room with the utmost self- 
s.itisfaction, slapping his hand upon his bosom whenever he spoke of a mrm 
nf linnor. We then drew from the waistband of our pantaloons several 
ounces of gold, which we had been careful to keep dark until now, and dis- 
tributed among them as a gratuity over and above their contract. We 
thought this precaution would seal their allegiance, as we had been often 
told that the moit ht/nest collectors of customs in Mexico will say to the im- 
porter, ' That, as thin as is a doubloon, no man can see through it.' When 
they saw the gold come forth from its hiding-place, a look of surprise was 
exchanged ; and when they fingered the yellow stuff, their countenances 
5>eamed with renewed devotion to our interest. 

We certified, in writing, that they had been true and faithful to us, and 
the tall dark-skinned robber, after kissing the paper, carefully stored it in a 
secret place under his shirt. Upon taking leave, the old man, after several 
facetious jokes, ' how we would surprise our sweethearts when we reached 
home,' embraced us with a Mexican hug, both long and short. In Mexico, 
one's regard for another is graduated in proportion to the length and the 
strength of the embrace. Thus each of these robbers embraced us, and 
thus we returned it : for if we found in all Mexico the most fearless devo- 



OK AMKIUCAN'S. 



400 



tion to our interest while in our misfortunes, it Wi.s in these ihice robhiT 
guides. 

Let us now for a moment look into our late prison abode at the Castle of 
Perote. 

On the night of our escape, and the next morning up to the time of 
counting the pirisoners, as might have been expected, our companions were 
under the most excited ajiprehcnsion, not only on our account, but also as 
to what the discovery might cost them. Under this excitement, everything 
remained quiet as usual, for no one in the castle except themselves knew a 
word of it. At nine o'clock next morning, ' Guts ' and the new guard cainc 
around to the prison rooms with the sharp and often-repeated order a-fur- 
men — a-formen.' This order was well understood by our countrymen , it 
meant ' to form,' and that in front of the jirison doors, as usual for inspec- 
tion, in the morning ; but still, believing every moment g.nnea would in- 
crease our chances of success, and determining to favor us as much as pos- 
sible, they held back, and were slow to come out of the cells : some mak- 
ing one excuse, and others another. 'Guts' raved and stormed at their 
tardiness ; he went into the cells in person to look where the absent were, 
and found them not ; he inquired of the balance, and received from one in 
answer, ' Perhaps they are at tlie cmnun ; and from another, ' They may be 
at the tienda.' These places were sent to and thoroughly searched, but still 
they were not to be found. Our boys would repeat among themselves, 
'We will put them off to the last moment, for every minute will enable 
our comrades to get deeper and deeper into the mountains.' 

During all this time, ' Guts' swelled and raved : ' Where are tliey ?' he 
thundered out to the interpreter. 'Well, Van,' one of them said to Van 
Ness, 'it is no use to put it off any longer; let him have it.' Van replied, 
' Liez y seis fuUan ' — sixteen deficient. ' Where have they gone to, and 
how did they all get off?' bawled 'Guts,' in a still louder tone. ' Quiat 
tale f — wlio knows ? was the reply. 

Here commenced the greatest possible row ; the whole castle was imme- 
diately alarmed — ofEcers and soldiers turned out — the governor came forth 
with death-like horror upon his countenance — officers and guards flew all 
over the castle ; examined every nook and corner — the top walls — went 
round the great moat, but still did not discover the breacli, the hole having 
been so carefully stopped with a blanket. The last place where ihey 
thought of looking was in the prison cells, and after much useless search, 
one of the officers pulled back the small shutter in the center room which 
covered the loophole, and found, to his inexpressible horror, our breach ob- 
liquing to the left. 

'Who could have thought these daring 'J'exans would have undertaken 
such a task ? They surely are akin to the devil. This castle has stood for 
these hundred years, and no one ever dared such a thing before.' These, 
and many such exclamations of wonder and astonishment, burst forth from 
men, women and children, officers, soldier-s, and culprits ; for they all, from 
the governor to the smallest child, came to satisfy tliemselvos of what tliuir 
astonishment mixed up with miracle. 

Our old comrades were doubly ironed, and guarded with increased vigil- 
ance. The officers now thought that nothing was impossible with Texans ; 



410 ADVENTURES AND ACiJIEVEMENTS 

and one of my friends, writing from the castle, said that 'they even believe 
that we will escape in a letter.' 

While the best informed Mexicans will admit our superiority in war, both 
in daring and the use of arms, the more uninformed entertained the most 
strange notions of us. Many believe that we have a magic power ; others 
believe us to be northern barbarians, of one of two tribes of white Indians, 
who form the connecting link between mankind and the other world — imps. 
The Texan, in fact, is looked upon by them with far more astonishment 
than was the Kentuckian, who said he was sired by a steamboat and came 
out of a penitentiary." 



INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE 



A M O S I. A W Pt E N C E , 

THE MOUEL MEKCIUNT AND CHRISTIAN rHlI.ANTHROl'lST, WHO, FROM AN HUMDLE BE- 
GINNING, BECAME ONE OF THE WEALTHIEST MKN IN AMERICA, AND REMARKMII.E FOR 
HIS EXI.ARfiED BENEVOLENCE — HE HAVING GIVEN AWAV, IN THE COURSE OF HIS 
LIFE, MURE THAN SEVEN HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS, 

F li THE BENE E I T O E M A N K I Js 1) . 



It sometimes happens tluit tlie death of a good man, instead of bringing 
his usefulness to an end, as is commonly the case, only serves to augment 
that usefulness, by greatly enlarging the number of those whose characters 
are formed upon the model his life has presented. While men, whose 
chief distinctions lie in their goodness, remain among the living, their in- 
fluence is ordinarily limited within the sphere of their personal associations; 
but when such men die, if the story of their usefulness has been at all a 
memorable one, its publication at once, and largely, widens their field of 
influence. Their example is no longer bounded by the narrow limits of their 
parish or town, but extends often to distant countries, to places the most re- 
mote, to hearts everywhere that can be moved by the narration of simple 
and single-hearted goodness, of unostentatious benevolence, or of munifi- 
cent generosity. 

The life of Amos Lawrence is illustrative of this truth. Few men havo 
ever used their stewardship more wisely than he ; few or none, whose for- 
tunes were wholly the fruit of their own enterprise and labor, ever gave 
away so much in charities, both public and private, as Mr. Lawrence ; and 
yet, the good ho did with his abundant means, while living, is probably 
much less than the good which will result, now that he is departed, from 
the recorded probity, conscientiousness and goodness of his daily life. 

On the 22d of July, 1775, Samuel Lawrence, the father r.f Amos, w.is 
married at Groton, a small village thirty or forty miles from Boston, to 
Susannah Parker. The young bridegroom was then a soldier in the army 
of the Revolution, and his marriage was necessarily a hasty oi.e. 'When 
hostilities first commenced, he was a subaltern officer in the Groton company 
of minute men. The morning of the 19th of April, 1775, General I'rescott, 
whose residence was in the town, rode rapidl}' down the street of Groton to 
the homestead of the Lawrences, crying out, "Samuel, notify your men — 
the British are earning '." In three hours, these minute men, scattered 
over seven miles of country, were on their march to Cambridge. At the 
battle of Bunker Hill, these Groton men gave a good account of themselves, 
particularly their veteran captain, Farwell, who was shot, through tlie body 



412 



ADVKNTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 



and taken off for dead. When the indignant captain heard liimself so re- 
ported by those who were bearing him from the field, he broke out, "It aint 
true! — dont let my poor wife hear of this ; I shall live to see my country 
free," and so he did. Young Lawrence carried off, as his trophies from 
the battle-field, two holes in his beaver hat, drilled by the same bullet which 
plowed a furrow, from front to rear, through his hair, beside a contusion 
on his arm from a spent grape-shot. He afterward served as adjutant to 
General Sullivan, who was in command in Rhode Island ; was next in ser- 
vice near New York, and subsequently returned with his regiment to Cam- 
bridge, in Massachusetts. 

While on a short leave of absence, from this latter station, his marriage 
took place ; his mother having given it as her opinion that in the event of 
anything fatal happening to her sou, " it would be better for the youthful 
Susannah to be Sam's widow, rather than Sam's forlorn damsel." 

While the marriage ceremony was in progress, the half-wedded husband 
was summoned by the clangor of the alarm-bell, to join his regiment. 
Within the hour, he was hastened away from his wife to fulfill his military 
duties. His case was certainly a hard one, and so his colonel seemed to 
have thought, for he allowed him to return to Groton to his wife, to rejoin 
his regiment within three days, at Rhode Island. After this short furlough, 
husband and wife saw nothing more of each other for the next half year. 
Once after a battle, in which his friends knew he must have been engagad, 
but before it was known who had been killed or who had escaped, the 
anxious mother said to the agitated wife, " She did not know but Sam was 
killed." The possibility of such an event took away her strength, and she 
fell prostrate upon the floor. He had indeed been in great peril, but the 
desperate efforts of a company of blacks, together with the fieetncss and 
strength of his horse, had saved him from capture. Soon after this, he passed 
a few days with his friends, not to be with them again till the autumn of the 
next year, when he retired from the army to be with his Susannah in her 
firet confinement. This was the termination of his military services. 

His religious character may be inferred from the fact, that for many years, 
and until his death, he was a deacon in the Congregational Church, in Groton. 
As a citizen, he discharged the duties of the magistracy with fidelity and 
success. For thirty-three years, he was trustee of the academy in his na- 
tive town, which, in gratitude to him and his son, now bears the family 
name. Such was the father of Amos Lawrence. • 

Of his mother, Mr. Lawrence always spoke in the strongest terms of ven- 
eration and love. Her form, bending over the bed of her children in silent 
prayer, when about leaving them for the night, was among their earliest 
recollections. She was a woman well fitted to rear a family through the 
troubled times in which she lived. To the kindest affection, she united 
energy and decision of character, and in her household enforced that strict 
and unhesitating obedience, which she regarded as lying at the foundation of 
all success in the education of children. Her hands were never idle, as may 
be supposed, when it is remembered that in those days, throughout New 
England, in addition to the cares of a farming establishment, much of the 
material for clothing was manufactured by the inmates of the family. 

Amos Lawrence, the second son of his parents, was born at Groton, the 



OF AMERICANS. 4I3 

22(1 day of April, 178G. His constitution was initurally a feeble one, which 
in childhood, often kept him from the district school, near his father's house, 
where he acquired the first rudiments of knowledge. From this small vesti- 
bule of learning, he was transferred to the academy not far distant, where 
he concluded, at the rather premature age of thirteen, his school education. 

He then went from learning to trading, and soon penetrated the mystery 
of a New Enghwid country store. He learned to sell rum and brandy by the 
puncheon and by the pint ; cloth by the bale and the yard ; tobacco in kegs 
and tobacco in plugs ; together with tea-kettles, molasses, silks, gimblots, 
indigo, grindstones, rhubarb, school-books, etc. Superadded to these mul- 
tifarious duties, was that of acting as a kind of a dispensatory clerk, to the 
medical profession of Groton, and the neighboring towns, who looked to 
this store of James Brazier for the replenishment of their exhausted saddle- 
bags. 

During this apprenticeship of young Lawrence, and for many years after 
it was customary, throughout New England, for clerks and apprentices, 
journeymen and employers, to prepare ardent spirits in some form, to be 
drank in the middle of the afternoon. In common with the other clerks of 
the establishment, he partook of the pleasant beverage, until he found him- 
self longing for the stimulus, as the hour for serving it ajiproaehed, when ho 
had the resolution to abandoned the dangerous habit. Many years afterward, 
he wrote to a young friend, respecting this incident in his life, as follows : 
"In the first place, take this for your motto, at the commencement of your 
journey, that the difference of going just rirjhi, or a little wrong, will be the 
difference of finding yourself in good quarters, or in a miserable bog or 
slough at the end of it. Of the whole number educated in the Groton 
stores, for some years before and after myself, no one else, to my knowledge, 
escaped the bog or slough ; and my escape, I trace to the simple fact of ray 
having put a restraint upon my appetite. 

We five boys were in the habit, every forenoon, of making a drink com- 
pounded of rum, raisins, sugar, nutmeg, etc., with biscuit — all palatable to 
eat and drink. After being in the store four weeks, I found myself ad- 
monished, by my appetite, of the aiiproach of the hour for indulgence. 
Thinking the habit might make trouble, if allowed to grow stronger, with- 
out further apology to my seniors, I declined partaking with them. My 
first resolution was to abstain for a week, and then for a year. Finally, I 
resolved to abstain for the rest of my apprenticeship, which was for five 
years longer. During that whole period, I never draidt a spoonful, though 
I mixed gallons daily for my old niiister and his customers. 

I decided not to be a slave to tobacco in any form, though I loved the 
odor of it then, and even now have in my drawer a superior Havana cigar, 
given me, not long since, by a friend, but only to smell of. I have never in 
my life smoked a cigar; never chewed but one quid, and that was before 1 
was fifteen ; and never took an ounce of snuff, tliough the scented rappee 
of forty years ago had great charms for me. Now, I say, to this simple fact 
of starting >«< rifjU, am I indebted, witli God's blessing on my labors, for 
my present position, as well as that of numerous connections sprung up 
around me." 

After leaving school and going into the store, he writes on another occa- 



4U ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

sion : " There was not a month passed before I became impressed with tha 
opinion, that restraint upon appetite was necessary to prevent the slavery I 
saw destroying numbers around me. Many and many of tlie fiirmers, me- 
chanics, and apprentices, of that da}-, have filled drunkards' graves, and 
have left destitute families and friends." 

Few other details of his seven years' apprenticeship can now be gathered. 
On the 22d of April, 1807, Mr. Lawrence became of age. One week later, 
he was seen on his way to Boston, with twenty dollars in his pocket, his 
seven years' experience, and his good principles, as his only capital with 
whicli to begin the business of life. After a brief clerkship in Boston, he 
commenced business for himself, in December, 1807, in a small store, in 
what was then known as Cornhill, having a Lancaster youth, by the name 
of Henrj' Whiting, for his only clerk. This lad afterward became better 
known as Brigadier-General AVhiting, of the United States Army. The 
pecuniary condition of the Lawrence family, at this time, was not promis- 
ing. Speaking of this period, he says : "I was then, in the matter of pro- 
perty, not worth a dollar. My father was comfortably off as a farmer, 
somewhat in debt ; with, perhaps, four thousand dollars. My brother, 
Luther, was in the practice of law, getting forward, but not worth two thou- 
sand dollars; William had nothing; Abbott, a lad just fifteen years old, at 
school ; and Samuel, a child seven years old." 

This stout-hearted father, with "perhaps four thousand dollars," but 
"somewhat in debt," with four other sons and three daughters to provide 
for, voluntarily mortgaged his small farm, that he might loan the proceeds 
to his son. The history of this transaction is creditable to both. Forty 
years afterward, Mr. Lawrence wrote as follow-s upon the back of the 
original mortgage deed : " My honored father brought to me the one thou- 
sand dollars, and asked me to give him my note for it. I told him he did 
wrong to place himself in a situation to be made unhappy, if I lost the 
money. He told me lie guessed I wov.ld'nt hse it, and I gave him my 
note. The first thing I did was to take four per cent, premium on my 
Boston bills (the difference then between passable and Boston money), and 
sent a thousand dollars in bills of the Hillsborough Bank to Amherst, 
New Hampshire, by my father, to my brother Luther, to carry to the bank 
and get specie, as he was going there to attend court that week. My brother 
succeeded in getting specie, principally in silver change, for the bills, and 
returned it to me in a few days. In the meantime, or shortly after, the 
bank had been sued, the bills discredited, and in the end, proved nearly 
worthless. I determined not to use the money except in the safest way ; 
and therefore loaned it to Messrs. Parkman, in whom I had entire confi- 
dence. After I had been in business, and had made more than a thousand 
dollars, I felt I could repay the money, come what would of it; being in- 
sured against fire, and trusting nobody for goods. I used it in my business, 
but took care to pay off the mortgage as soon as it would be received 
This incident shows how dangerous it is to the independence and comfort of 
families, for parents to take pecuniary responsibilities for their sons in trade, 
beyond their power of meeting them .without embarrassment. Had my 
Hillsborough bank notes not been paid as they were, nearly the whole 
amount would have been lost, and myself and family might probably have 



OF AMERICAKS. 4I5 

been ruined. The incident was so striking, that I have uniformly discour- 
aged young men, who have applied to me for credit, offering their fathers 
as bondsmen J and, by doing so, I have, I believe, saved some ■ respectable 
families from ruin. A young man who cannot get along without such aid, 
will not be likely to get along with it." 

How the young merchant got on in his new business, without capital, 
tnay in part, be guessed at from what ho wrote years afterward to a friend : 
"I practiced upon the maxim, 'Business he/ore friends,' from the commence- 
ment of my course. During tlio first seven years of my business in this 
city, I never allowed a bill against me to stand unsettled over the Sabbath, 
If the purchase of goods was made at auction on Saturday, and delivered 
to me, I always examined and settled the bill by note or by crediting it, and 
having it clear, so that, in case I was not on duty on Monday, there would 
be no trouble for my boys ; thus keeping the business before me, instead of 
allowing it to drive me." 

Another extract referring to certain regulations adopted in the house 
where he boarded, may also throw some light upon his early course as a 
successful business man. " The only rule I ever mads was, th.at after sup- 
j er, all the boarders who remained in the public room should remain quiet 
at least one hour, to give those who chose to study or read, an opportunity 
of doing so without disturbance. The consequence was, that wo had the 
most quiet and improving set of young men in the town. The few who 
did not wish to comply with the regulation, went abroad after tea, some- 
times to the theater, sometimes to other places, but, to a man, became bank- 
rupt in after life, not only in fortune, but in rciiutation ; while a majority of 
the other class sustained good characters, and some are now living who are 
ornaments to society, and till important stations." 

Certain other principles by which Mr. Lawrence governed his conduct 
in busines.s, are worthy the notice and imitation of young men. lie writes : 
" I adopted a plan of keeping an accurate account of merchandise bought and 
sold each day, with the profit as far as practicable. This plan was pursued 
for a number of years, and I never found my merchandise fall short in 
taking an account of stock, which I did as often, at least, as once in each 
year. I was thus enabled to form an opinion of my actual state as a busi- 
ness man. I adopted, also, the rule always to have property, after mj 
second year's business, to represent forty per cent, at least more than I 
owed ; that is, never to bo in debt more than two .and a half times my cap- 
ital. This caution saved mo from ever getting embarra.ssed. If it were 
more generally adopted, we should see fewer failures in business. E.'cces- 
sive credit is tho rock on which so many business men are broken. I 
made about fifteen hundred dollars tho first year, and more than four 
thousand the second. Probably, had I made four thousand tho first year, 
I should have failed the second or third -year. I practiced a system of 
rigid economy, and never allowed myself to spend a fourpenco for unneces- 
gary objects until I had acquired it." 

In rather less than a year after the name of Amos Lawrence luad appeared 
in Cornhill, his young clerk, whos". vocation seemed to lie in the direction 
of gunpowder and musketry, rather than in that of Manchester goods, left 
his clerkship vacant for a successor, whose vocation, after events went to show. 



416 ADYKNTURES AND ACUIEVE.MEXTS 

lay about equally toward commerce, cotton-spindles, and diplomacy. Or 
the 8tli of October, 1S08, Abbott Lawrence, late minister to England, took 
down the shutters of his brother's store for the first time. In one of Mr 
I.,!»\\ ."».!. 'e't. le.'^'.eio L?- opeJ.TS "•I his, Tic'v i.'9ii uJ f..llows . 'In ISCS, Lr 
came to me as my apprentice, bringing his bundle under his arm, with less 
than three dollars in his pocket (and this was his fortune) ; a first rate 
business lad he was ; but like other bright lads, needed the careful eye of 
a senior to guard him from the pitfalls that he was exposed to." 

But few details of Mr. Lawrence's life from this time to the year 1814 
are now known. In 1811 (June 6), he thought himself sufficiently pros- 
perous to take to himself a wife. Her name was Sarah Richards, the 
daughter of Giles Richards, whose machinery for the manufacture of cards 
for wool was one of the earliest examples of that aptitude for mechanical 
inventions, by which the New England mind, in later years, has so honor- 
ably distinguished itself. We learn from his correspondence that no man 
was ever more domestic in his tastes or was better satisfied with the refined 
enjoyments and pleasure:; of home. A few days after the birth of a daugh- 
ter, he writes to a friend : 

"I am the richest man, I suppose, on this side of the water, and the 
richest, because the happiest. On the 23d, I was blessed by the birth of a 
fair little daughter; this, as you may well suppose, h.as filled our hearts with 
joy. . . . I wish you were a married man, and then (if you had a good 
wife) you would know how to appreciate the pleasures of a parent. I have 
lately thought more than ever of the propriety of your settling soon. It is 
extremely dangerous to defer making a connection until a late period, for a 
man is more and more in danger of not forming one, the longer he puts it 
off; and any man who does not form this connection, grossly miscalculates 
in the use of the means, which God has given him, to supply himself with 
pleasures in the downhill journey of life." He concludes by enjoining his 

friend, that Mrs. L has her eye on a wife for him — and after describing 

her accomplishments, remarks : " that the only objection to her, so far as he 
has observed, is that she has a few thousand dollars in cash ; but this, how- 
ever, might be remedied, for after furnishing a house, the balance might be 
given to her relations, or to some public institution." 

Six years after the Groton boy had first begun to do business for himself, 
he made a change in the proprietorship of the store, which he describes aa 
follows: "On the first of January, 1814, I took my brother Abbott into 
partnership on equal shares, putting fifty thousand dollars, tliat I had then 
earned, into the concern. Three days afterward, the 'Bramble News' came, 
by which the excessive high price of goods was knocked down. Our stock 
w;is then large, and had cost a high price. He was in great anguish, con- 
sidering himself a bankrupt for at least five thousand dollars. I cheered 
him by offering to cancel our co-partnership indentures, give him up his note, 
and at the end of the year give him five thousand dollars. He declined 
the offer, saying I should lose that, and more beside, and as he had enlisted, 
would do the best he could. This was in character, and it was well for us 
both. We still continue mercantile business under the first set of inden- 
tures, and under the Same firm, merely adding, '& Co.,' as new parlaew 
have been admitted." 



OF AMERICANS. 41 7 

In about a year from the formation of this auspicious partncrsliip, pcaco 
was declared between this country and Great Britain ; soon after wliich tho 
junior member of the firm tool? passage on the first vessel that sailed from 
b^sto.; w ij'.veipool. Ho ciirncii wuh liiiu tuj i..Mo.viiij written adiico 
from his elder brother, which will help to illustrato the moral principles upon 
which Mr. Lawrence habitually acted : 

" My dear brother, I have thought best, before you go abroad, to suggest 
a few hints for your benefit, in your intercourse with the people among 
whom you are going. As a first and leading principle, let every transaction 
be of that pure and honest character that you would not be ashamed to 
have .appear before the whole world, as clearly as to yourself. In addition 
to the advantages arising from an honest course of conduct with your fellow- 
men, there is the satisfaction of reliecting within yourself, that you havo 
endeavored to do your duty ; and, however greatly the best may fall short 
of doing all they ought, they will be sure not to do more than their princi- 
ples enjoin. It is, therefore, of tho highest consequence, that you should 
not only cultivate correct principles, but that you should place your stan- 
dard of action so high as to require groat vigilance in living up to it. In 
regard to your business transactions, let everything be so registered in your 
books, that any person, without difficulty, can understand the whole of your 
concerns. You may be cut off in the midst of your pursuits, and it is of no 
small consequence that your temporal affairs should always bo so arranged 
that you would be in readiness. If it is important that you should be well 
prepared in this point of view, how much more important is it that you 
should be prepared in that which relates to eternity. 

While here, your conduct has been such as to meet my enu're approba- 
tion ; but the scenes of another land may be more than your [)rinciplcs will 
stand against. I say, vwy he, because young men, of as fair promise as your- 
self, have been lost by giving a small latitude (innocent in the first instance) 
to their propensities. But, I pray the Father of all mercies to have you in 
his keeping, and preserve you amid temptations." 

In a subsequent letter, is found this additional advice: "My next and 
constant direction will be to keep a particular watch over yourself, that you 
do not fall into any habits of vice ; and as a means of preserving yourself, 
I would most strictly enjoin that your Sabbaths be not spent in noise and 
riot, but that you attend the public worship of God. This you may think 
an unnecessary direction to you, who have always been in the habit of doing 
so. I hope it may be ; at any rate, it will do no harm." 

Amid tho growing cares of his largely increased mercantile operations, 
Mr. Lawrence continued to find his chief solace and enjoyment in the bosom 
of his family. His evenings were passed at homo, and urgent must have 
been the call which could then have drawn him from his fireside. So much 
did the interests of his little household transcend all other interests, in his 
regards, that he watched, on one occasion, by the side of a sick child, for 
an entire fortnight, day and night, and then had the satisfaction of wit- 
nessing its recovery, though physician and friends had pronounced it hope- 
less. 

These domestic qu.alitics of Mr. Lawrence were soon to be subjected to 
one of the severest of earthly trials. In the spring of 1818, Mrs. Lawrence 



418 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

was troubled with a cough, which speedily became so obstinate as to induce 
her to make trial of the pure air of her husband's native place. Within 
two or tbrec months, he, in turn, was seized with an alarming illness, which 
brought her to his side. After a few weeks' watching, and when the hus- 
band's life was despaired of, the wife was seized with hemorrhage from tho 
lungs. It seemed likely that their journey of life would terminate together, 
but He that controls such things had determined differently. Mr. Lawrence 
slowly and imperfectly regained his health ; and on the 14th of January, 
1819, closed the eyes of her whom, a little more than seven years before, he 
had taken as bis companion till death should part them. 

Previous to this bereavement, his constitution had been greatly shattered, 
but after this event, his sense of loss and mental depression became such 
that he was induced to make trial of a change of scene and occupation by 
a protracted visit to the Middle States and Virginia. On his return, with 
health somewhat improved, he sought to direct his mind from painful rem- 
iniscences, by devoting himself with increased ardor to his businoss. By 
pursuing this course, aided bj' the judicious sympathy and kindness of his 
brother Abbott, and his family, with whom he now resided, his mind re- 
gained its tone, his health was restored, and he was again the efScient and 
successful man of business. 

In April, 1821, Mr. Lawrence was married to Mrs. Nancy Ellis, widow 
of the late Judge Ellis, of Claremont, N. H., and daughter of Robert 
Means, Esq., of Amherst, in the same State. The same year, he was elected 
as representative from Boston to the legislature, which was the only occasion 
on which he served in a public legislative body. About this time he gave 
the subjoined valuable advice in a letter to Hon. Frederick Walcott, of Con- 
necticut, whose son was then a clerk in his employ, and subsequently became 

his partner. " H will have much leisure in the evening, which, if he 

choose, may be profitably devoted to study ; and we hope he will lay out 
such a course for himself, as to leave no portion of his time unappropriated. 
It is on account of so much leisure, that so many fine youths are ruined in 
this town. The habit of industry once well fixed, the danger is over. Will 
it not be well for him to furnish you, at stated periods, an exact account of 
his expenditures ? The habit of keeping such an account will be serviceable, 
and if he is prudent, the satisfaction will be great, ten years hence, in look- 
ing back and observing the jjrocess by which his character has been formed." 

From the passage by Congress of the tariff of 1824, the firm of which 
Mr. Lawrence was the senior partner, became largely engaged in domestic 
manufactures. To them, perhaps, more than any other single establishment, 
is New England indebted for the success of that system of manufacturing 
industry which, in multiplying so vastly her material wealth, has also de- 
monstrated the compatibility c.f female labor in factories, with intelligence, 
relf-respect, and many of the refinements of life, on the part of .such opera- 
tives. IMr. Lawrence watched with great solicitude, the progress of Lowell 
and other manufacturing towns, not only in the increase of wealth, but also 
in morals, religion, and the facilities for instruction and education. Churches, 
I'braries, hospitals, in these communities, found in him a munificent friend, 
and it was with feelings of exultation, both as a patriot and a manufacturer, 
that he could point an intelligent stranger to the industrv of Maiiche.ster 



OF AMERICANS. 41 9 

without its vice, to the ingomiity of Birmingham, without its suffering and 
disease. 

For tlie thirty-eight years previous to his dcatli, Mr. Lawrouoo was in the 
habit, annuallj-, of noting down the amount of his property, both as a guido 
to himself and, in case of his deatli, as a means of facilitating the settle- 
ment of his estate. In the little memorandum book where these statements 
were recorded, occurs, under date of January 1, 1826, the following entry : 
"I have been extensively engaged in business during the last two years, 
and have added much to my worldly possessions ; but have come to the 
same conclusion in regard to them that I did in 1818. I feci distressed in 
mind that the resolutions then made have not been more effectual in keep- 
ing mo from this over-engagedness in business. I now find myself so en- 
grossed with its cares, as to occupy my thoughts, waiting or sleeping, to a 
degree entirely disproportioned to its importance. The quiet and comfort 
of home, broken in upon by the anxiety arising from the losses and mis- 
chances of a business so extensive as ours, and, above all, that communion 
which ought ever be kept free between man and his Maker, is interrupted 
by the incessant calls of the multifarious pursuits of our establishment. 
Property acquired at such sacrifices as I have been obliged to make tlie past 
year, costs more than its worth ; and the anxiety of protecting it is the ex 
treme of folly." * 

A year later he WTites as follows : "The principles of business laid down 
a year ago, have been very nearly pr.acticed upon. Our responsibilities and 
anxieties have greatly diminished, as also have the accustomed profits of 
business ; but there is sufficient remaining for the record of our labor to 
impose on us increased responsibilities and duties, as agents who must, at 
last, render an account. God grant that mine be found correct." 

On the first of January, 1828, after giving an account of his pecuniary 
circumstances, he writes : "The amount of property is great for a young 
man under forty-two years of age, who came to this town when he was 
twenty-one years old, with no other possessions than a common country 
education, a sincere love for his own familj', and habits of industry, econ- 
omy, and sobriety : under God, it is these same self-denying habits, and a 
desire I always had to please, so far as I could without sinful compliance, 
that I can now look back upon and see as the true ground of my success. 
I have many things to reproach myself with ; but among them is not 
idlino' away my time, or spending money for such things as are improper. 
My property imposes upon mo many duties, which can only be known to 
my Maker. May a sense of tliese duties bo constantly impressed upon my 
mind ; and by a constant discharge of them, God grant me the happiness at 
last of hearing the joyful sound, ' Wei! done, good and faithful servant, enter 
thou into the joy of thy Lord.' " 

Few letters of Mr. Lawrence, previous to the year 1828, seem to have 
been found by his biographer ; but from that time to his death, his corres- 
pondence, p.articularly with his children, is mostly preserved, and fills many 
volumes. His advice, about this time, to his second son, then at school 
at Andover, is deserving the attention of other parents. He writes : "Got 
the habit firmly fixed, of putting down every cent you receive and every 
cent you expend. In this way you will acquire some knowledge of the 
27 • 



420 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

relative value of things, and a liabit of judging and of care which will be 
of use to j'ou during all your life. Among the numerous people who have 
failed in business, within my knowledge, a prominent cause has been a 
want of system in their affairs, by which to know when their expenses and 
losses exceeded their profits. This habit is as necessary for professional 
men as for a merchant, because, in their business, there are numerous ways 
to make little savings, if they find their income too small, which they 
would not adopt without looking at the detail of all their expenses. It is 
the habit of consideration I wish you to acquire ; and the habit of being 
accurate will have an influence upon your whole character in life." 

While Mr. Lawrence was most solicitous that his children should acquire 
just principles, as the most important of all earthly possessions, he did not 
under-value the worth of graceful and amiable manners. To his eldest son, 
then at school in France, he writes : " I beseech you to consider well the 
advantages you enjoy, and to avail yourself of your opportunities to give 
j'our manners a little more cai'e and polish ; for you may dejiend upon it, 
manners are highly important in your intercourse with the world. Good 
principles, good temper, and good manners, will carry a man through the 
world much better than he can get along with the absence of either. The most 
important are good principles. Without these, the best manners, altliough 
for a time very acceptable, cannot sustain a person in trying situations. Do 
not omit the opportunitj' to acquire a character and habits that will con- 
tinue to improve during the remainder of life. At its close, the reflection 
that you have thus done, will be a support and stay worth more than any 
sacrifice you may ever be called on to make in acquiring these habits." 

Little is known, with certainty, of the extent of Mr. Lawrence's charities 
previous to the year 1S29. Up to this time, he had kept no account of his 
benefactions, whether large or small. It can hardly be doubted, however, 
that his liberality was as great then, in proportion to his means, as it was 
known to be during the last twenty-three 3'ear3 of his life. On the same 
p!^e with the estimate of his property in 1830, is the following memoran- 
dum : "With a view to know the amount of my expenditures for objects 
other than the support of my family, I have, for the year 1S29, kept a par- 
ticular account of such other expenses as came under the denomination of 
charities, and appropriations for the benefit of others, not of my own house- 
hold, for many of whom I feel under the same obligation as for my own 
family." His son and biographer says : "This memorandum was commenced 
on the first of January, 1829, and is continued until December 30, 1852, tha 
last day of his life. It contains a complete statement of his charities during 
that whole period, including not only wliat he contributed in money, but 
also all other donations, in the shape of clotliing materials, books, pro- 
visions, and his custom was to note down the cost value of the donation, 
after it had been dispatched ; whether in the shape of a book, a turkey, or 
one of his immense bundles of varieties to some poor country-minister's 
family, 'as large,' as he says in addressing one, 'as a small hay-cock.' Two 
rooms in his house, and sometimes three, were used principally for the re- 
ception of useful articles for distribution. There, when stormy weather or 
ill health prevented him from taking his usual drive, he was in the habit of 
passing hours in selecting and packing up articles which he considered suit- 



OF AMERICANS. 421 

able to the wants of those he wished to aid. On such days, his coachman's 
services were put in requisition to paclv and tie up ' the small hay-cocks,' 
and many an illness was the result of over-exertion and fatigue in supplying 
the wants of his poorer brethren. These packages were selected according 
to the wants of the recipients, and a memorandum made of the contents. 
Most of them contained substantial articles for domestic use, and were often 
accompanied by a note containing from five to fifty dollars in money. 

The distribution of books was another mode of usefulness to which Mi. 
Lawrence attached much importance. In his daily drives, his carriage was 
well stored with useful volumes, which he scattered among persons of all 
classes and ages, as he had opportunity. These books were generally of a 
religious character, while others of a miscellaneous nature were purchased 
.n l.irge numbers, and sent to institutions or individuals in remote parts of 
the country. 

Old and young, rich and poor, shared equally in these distributions ; and 
he rarely allowed an occasion to pass unimproved, when ho thought an in- 
fluence could be exerted by the gift of an appropriate volume. While 
waiting one day in his carriage with a friend, iu one of the principal thor- 
oughfares in the city, he beckoned to a genteelly dressed young man who 
was passing, and handed him a book. Upon being asked whether the young 
man was an acquaintance, he replied, 'No, he is not; but you remember 
where it is written, 'Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it 
after many days.' 'A barrel of books,' is no uncommon item found in his 
record of articles almost daily forwarded to one and another of his distant 
beneficiaries." 

Wliile Mr. Lawrence was thus doing good, in many quiet and unostenta- 
tious ways, and while his means for doing this good were rapidly augment- 
ing, under the successful efforts of himself and other New England cap- 
italists, to build up in her midst a great manufacturing community, tho 
hand of God was laid heavily upon him, depriving him suddenly of health, 
and of the capacity for fulfilling many of the duties of an active commercial 
life. On a very warm day of June, 1831, while in his counting-room, Mr. 
Lawrence drank too freely of cold water ; soon after he was seized with a 
violent and alarming illness, by which the function of the stomach seemed 
to have been destroyed, and wdiich for a time threatened his life. Though 
he lived for more than twenty years after tiiis affliction, his life continually 
hnng upon a thread. 

"What the feelings of Mr. Lawrence were at this time, wlien his dayi 
were app.irently drawing to a rapid close, will be seen from these extracts 
from two letters, one to his son in Europe, and the other to his honored 
mother. " In that dread hour when I thought that the next perhaps would 
be my last on earth — my thoughts resting upon my God and Saviour, then 
upon the p.ast scenes of my life, then upon my dear children, — the holief 
that their minds are well directed, and that they will prove blessings to 
society, and fulfill in some good degree, the design of Providence in 
placing them here, was a balm to my spirits that proved more favorable to 
my recovery than any of the other remedies. May you never forget that 
every man is individually responsible for his actions, and must be held ac- 
countable for his opportunities !" 



422 ADVENTURES AND ACniEVEMENTS 

To his motber lie wrote : " During that period in which I considered my 
recovery as hardly probable, my mind was calm, and while in review of the 
past, I found many things to lament ; and in contemplation of the future, 
much to fear, but more to hope, I could find no other words in which to 
express my thoughts, than the words of the publican, ' God be merciful to 
me a sinner!' All the small distinctions of sects and forms dwindled into 
air, and seemed to me more worthless than ever. The cares and anxieties 
of the world did not disturb me, believing it to be of small moment whether 
I should be taken now, or spared a few years longer." 

For many weary months, Mr. Lawrence was confined as an invalid to the 
seclusion of home ; but instead of making his ill-health an apology for self- 
indulgence, he finds occasion for it to widen the field of his benevolence, 
and to deepen his conviction of the necessity of doing all in his power foi 
the benefit of his fellow-men. 

In speaking of some application for aid from a charitable institution, 
he writes to his son : " I think you will find great advantage in doing 
this part of your duty upon a system which you can adopt ; thus, for in- 
stance, divide your expenses into ten parts, nine of which may be termed 
for what is considered necessary, making a liberal calculation for such as 
your situation would render proper, and one part applied for the promotion 
of objects not directly or legally claiming your support, but such as every 
good citizen would desire to have succeed. This, I think, you will find the 
most agreeable part of your expenses ; and if you should be favored with 
an abundance of means later in life, you may enlarge your appropriations of 
this sort, so as to be equal to one tenth of your income. Neither yourself 
nor those who depend upon you, will ever feel the poorer. I believe the 
rule might be profitably adopted by many who have small means ; for they 
would save more by method, than they would be required to pay." 

To the same general purport, is a letter written about the same time tc 
his second son, at Andover : " It is one of my privileges, not less than one of 
my duties, to be able thus to minister to the comfort of a circle of very 
dear friends. I hope you will one day have the delightful consciousness of 
using a portion of your means in a way to give you as much pleasure as I 
now experience. Your wants may be brought within a very moderate 
compass ; and I hope you will never feel yourself at liberty to waste on 
yourself such means as by system and right jjrinciples, may be beneficially 
appUed to the good of those around you. Providence has given us unerring 
principles to guide us in our duties of this sort. Our first duty is to those 
of our own household, then extending to kindred, friends, neighbors (and tke 
terra 'neighbor' may, in its broadest sense, take in the whole human 
family), citizene of our State, then of our country, then of the other countries 
of the world." 

A subsequent letter, written soon after the preceding, speaks of 
some of the causes of his success in business. " The secret of the whole 
matter was, that we had formed the habit of promptly acting, thus taking 
the fop of the tide, while the habit of some others was to delay until about 
half-tide, thus getting on the flats ; while we were all the time prepared for 
action, and ready to put into any port that promised well. I wish, by all 
these remarks, to iraprees upon you the necessity of qualifying yourself to 



OF AMERICANS. 423 

support yourself. The bast education that I can secure, shall be yours, and 
such facilities for usefulness as may be in my power, shall be rendered ; but 
no food to pamper idleness or wickedness, will I over supply willingly to 
any connection, however near. I trust I have none who will ever misuse 
so basely anything that may come to them as a blessing." 

The great end for which Mr. Lawrence seems to have lived is thus ex- 
pressed in a letter to his daughter : " The tenure of my life seems frail ; still 
it may continue longer than the lives of my children ; but whenever it shall 
please God to call me hence, I hope to feci resigned to his will, and to leave 
behind me such an influence as shall help forward the timid and faint- 
hearted in the path of duty." 

During the sunnner and autumn of 1832, and the early months of 1S33, 
it seemed probable that he would regain his health, and be able to resume 
the active duties of life. But this hope proved fallacious. While he was 
restored to such a measure of health as to be able to ride his horse almost 
daily (on which occasion he was constantly accomj)anied by some of the 
city clergy, without much regard, however, to the denomination to which 
they belonged), his liability to a relapse was constant. Bad news, annoying 
occurrences, anxiety of mind, or a slight cold, would so impair his digestion, 
as to reduce his strength to the lowest point. It was this unusual sensitive- 
ness of constitution which ultimately induced Mr. Lawrence to adopt that 
peculiar system of diet which he practiced for the last si.Kteeu years of his 
life. Uis food was simple in kind and limited in quantity. To avoid all 
tempt.'\tion to excess, his meals were taken apart from those of his family, 
after having been scrupulously weighed. In a letter to President Hopkins, 
of Williams College, he says : "If your young folks want to know the 
meaning of epicurianism, tell them to take some bits of coarse bread (one 
ounce and a little more), so.ak them in three gills of coarse meal gruel, and 
make their dinner of them and nothing else ; beginning very hungr}', and 
leaving off more hungry. The food is delicious, and such as no moilcrii 
epicurianism can equal." 

Under all the perplexities and discouragements arising from shattered 
nerves and impaired health, his correspondence continues to show the em- 
inently conscientious, as well as practical character of his mind. To his 
son in the country, he writes : " I want you to analyze more closely the 
tendency of principles, associations, and conduct, and strive to adopt such 
as will make it easier for you to go right than to go wrong. The moral 
taste, like the natural, is vitiated by abuse. Gluttony, tobacco, and intox- 
icating drinks, are not less dangerous to the latter, than loose principles, bad 
associations, and profligate conduct, are to the former. Look well to all 
these things." 

A letter to a young friend is also characteristic : " When you got ni.irricd, 
do not expect a higher degree of perfection than is consistent with mor- 
tality, in your wife. If you do, you will be disappointed. Bo careful, and 
do not choose upon a theory either. I dislike much of the nonsense and 
quackery that is dignified with the name of intellectual among people. 
Old fashioned common-sense is a deal better. . . . There was a part of 
Boston which used to bo visited by young men out of curiosity, when I first 
came here, into which I never set foot for the whole time I remained a 



424 ADVENTURES AND ACHIFVEMENTS 

single man.' I avoided it, because I not only wished to keep clear of the 
temptations common in that part, but to avoid the appearance of evil. I 
never regretted it; and I would advise all young men to strengthen their 
good resolutions by reflection, and to plant deep and strong the principles 
of right, and to avoid temptation, as time gives them strength to stand 
against it." 

Of the same character is the advice, as to marriage, which he gives to an- 
other young friend : " Take care that fancy does not beguile you of your 
understanding, in making your choice : a mere picture is not all that 
is needful in the up-and-down hills of life. The arrangements of the 
household and the sick-room, have more in them to fasten upon tho 
heart, than all the beauties and honors of the mere gala days, however suc- 
cessfully shown off. Be careful, when you fish, to get a heart, a soul, and 
a body ; not the show of a body that has mere vitality." 

As years rolled over his head, Mr. Lawrence's conviction of his in- 
debtedness to the instruction and example of his now widowed and ven- 
erable mother, seems, from his correspondence, to have been greatly deep- 
ened. Writing to his sister, under date of October 25, 1835, he says : "JMy 
thoughts this morning have been much engaged with my early home. I 
conclude it best to embody them in part, and send them forward to add (if 
they may) a token of gratitude and thankfulness to that dear one who is 
left to us, for her care of our early days, and her Christi:-.n instruction and 
example to her children, grand-children, great-grand-children ; each gener- 
ation of whom, I trust, will be made better in some of its members by 
her. It is more natural, when, in our weakness and want, to turn our 
thoughts to those whom they have been accustomed to look to for assist- 
ance ; and thus to me the impression of the blessing I enjoy in having such 
a home as mine is, and the blessing I early enjoyed in having such a home 
as mine was, under my father's roof, say to my heart, 'All these increase 
thy responsibilities, and for their use, thou must account.' I have had one 
of my slight ill turns, within the last two days, that has brought back all 
these feelings with increased force ; and I look upon these as gentle mon- 
itors, calculated to make me estimate more fully my blessings and my duties. 
Frequently as I am admonished of the frail tenure by which I hold my life, 
I am negligent and careless in the performance of those high and every- 
day duties which I should never lose sight of for an hour. I have also 
such buoyancy of spirits, that life seems to me a very, very great blessing, 
and I do, at times, strive to make it useful to those around me." 

In Mr. Lawrence's memorandum-book of property, under date of Decem- 
ber 31, 1835, occurs the following entry: "My expenses have been 

thousand dollars this year, of which about one half went for persons and 
objeota that make me feel that it has been well expended, and is better used 
than to remain in my possession." 

A letter to his mother, written two years later, shows the habitual feeling 
which influenced Mr. Lawrence in his use of his property : " This day com- 
pletes thirty years since my commencing business, with the hope of acquir- 
ing no very definite amount of property, or having in my mind any antici- 
pation of ever enjoying a tithe of that consideration my friends and the 
public are disposed to award me at this time. In looking back to that period, 



OF AMERICAXS. 425 

and reviewing the events as they come alon^r, I can see llie good hand of 
God in all my experience ; and acknowledge, with deep humiliation, my 
want of gratitude and proper return for all his mercies. May each day I 
live impress me more deeply with a sense of duty, and find me hotter pre- 
pared tt answer His call, and account for my stewardship. The changes in 
our family have been perhajjs no greater than usual in other families in that 
period, excepting in the matter of the eminent success that has attended our 
efforts of a worldly nature. This worldly success is the great cause of our 
danger in its use, and may prove a snare, unless we strive to keep constantly 
in mind, that to whom much is given, of him, will much he required. 1 
feel my own deficiencies, and lament them ; but am encouraged and re- 
warded by the enjoyment, in a high degree, of all my well-meant efforts 
for the good of those around me. In short, I feel as though I cau still do 
a little to advance the cause of human happiness while I remain here." 

The i)eeuniary embarrassment in the business of the country, in the year 
1837, will long be remembered. At the close of this year, he writes iu his 
diary : "The violent revulsion iu the business of the country, during the 
past year, has been ruinous to many ; but so far as my own interests are con- 
cerned, has been less than I anticipated. My property remains much as it 
was a year ago. Something beyond my income has been disposed of; and 
I have no debts against me, either as a partner in the firm or individually. 
Everything is in a better form for settlement than at any former period, and 
I hope to feel ready to depart whenever called." 

The following admirable advice was written in an account-book, which 
he gave to his youngest son, when a lad of twelve years old : " My dear son, 
I give you this little book, that you may write in it, how much money you 
receive, and how you use it. It is of much importance, in forming your 
early character, to have correct habits, and a strict regard to truth in all you 
do. For this purpose, I advise you never to cheat yourself by making a 
false entry in tiiis book. If you spend money for an object you would not 
willingly have known, you will be more likely to avoid doing the same 
thing again, if you call it by its right name here, remembering always that 
there is One who cannot be deceived, and that He requires his children to 
render an account of all their doings at hist. I pray God so to guide and 
direct you, that when your stewardship hero is ended, ho may say to you, 
that the talents entrusted to your care have been faithfully employed." 

To his sister he writes, December 22, 18-18 : " It is thirty-one years, this 
week, since I commenced business on my own account, and the prospects 
were as gloomy at that period for its successful pursuit, as at any time since; 
but I never had any doubt or misgiving as to my success, for I then had 
no more wants than my moans would justify. The habits then formed, and 
since confirmed and strengthened by use, have been the foundation ol my 
good name, good fortune, and present happy condition. At that time, my 
gains were more than my expenses ; thus strengthening and encouraging 
me in the steady pursuit of those objects I had in view .as a beginner. From 
that time to this, I am not aware of ever >Vesiring or acipiiring any great 
amount by a single operation, or of taking any part of the property of 
any other man and mingling it with my own, when 1 had the legal r;ght to 
do so. I have had such uniform success< as to make my fidelity a matter 



426 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

of deep concern to myself; and my prayer to God is, that I may be found 
to have acted a uniform, part, and receive the joyful 'well done,' which is 
substantial wealth, that no man can take away." 

The band of brothers, five in number, who had, for so many years, gone 
hand in hand, united by a common affection, and rejoicing together in a 
common prosperity was now to be broken. Their father had early charged 
them "not to fallout by the way; for a three-fold cord is not quickly 
broken." This injunction had been to them a sacred one. Whoever has 
Been them walking arm and arm, on a Sunday evening, after service, can 
hardly have failed to feel " how good and pleasant a thing it is for breth- 
ren to dwell together in unity." 

The 17th of April, 1839, the oldest brother, Luther, then mayor of 
Lowell, while showing a relation through the buildings of the Middlesex 
Manufacturing Corapan}', recently erected by his brothers, made a mis-step, 
which precipitated him into a deep wheel-pit, causing almost instant death. 
This sad event was deeply felt by Mr. Lawrence, and by all who knew the 
character of the deceased. In a letter to his sisters, he says : "Brother L.'s 
death may, perhaps, be more efficient in instructing us in the path of duty 
than would have been his life ; and the whole community is admonished 
by this event in a way that I have rarely seen marked. The homage to his 
character is a legacy to his children of more value than all the gold in the 
mint." 

The character of Mr. Lawrence's mind naturally inclined him to reverence 
for the past. He looked with great distrust upon some of the tendencies 
which an unprecedented prosperity had begun to develop in our country. 
' "I hardly know when I have been more forcibly impressed with a plain 
truth than I was yesterday, while sitting alone on horseback, on the top of the 
redoubt on Dorchester Heights, and the considerations of the past, the present, 
and the future, were the subjects of my thoughts, connecting the men of those 
days with the present, and the men of these days with the future, the 
evidence is irresistable, that there is a downhill tendency in the character 
of the people, which in sixty years more, will make us more corrupt than 
any other enlightened nation so young as ours, unless we are checked by 
adversity and suffering. There seems to be a spirit of reckless adventure 
in politics and religion, not contemplated seventy years ago. How far our 
experience in self-government in this country is going to advance the cause 
of good government, and the ultimate happiness of man, is yet a problom. 
Our principles are of the most elevating character ; our practices under 
them, of the most debasing; and if wo continue in this way another gen- 
eration, there will not be virtue enough in active use to save the forms t f 
our government." 

On the thirty-third anniversary of his commencing business, he enters in 
his diary : " My daily aspirations are for wisdom and integrity, to do what 
is required of me ; but the excuses for omissions, and the hidden promptings 
of pride or selfishness in the sins of commission, take away all confidence 
that all is done as it should be. I am in the enjoyment of as much as be- 
longs to our condition here ; wife, children, and friends, those three little 
blessings that were spared to us after the fall, impart enjoyment that makes 
my home as near a heaven on earth as is allowed to mortals." 



OF AMKRICANS. 427 

At this time, the reputation of Mr. Lawrence, for benevolence, had be- 
came so established, that not only the iiecodsitous,.but such as make a trade 
of speculating upon the charity of the liberal, were frequent applicants for 
his aid. So serious had this annoyance become, that he felt liimself con- 
strained to deny himself to all applicants, who were neither known to him- 
Belf nor properly commended by those in whom ho had confidence. IIo 
was in the habit of keeping a record of the names, ages, occupations, etc., of 
those who solicted his assistance. Those memoranda are somclimes both 
quaint and plain spoken ; — for instance : "June, 6. — G. M. called to sell 
a lot of sermons, called the , whicli he says he caused to be pub- 
lished to do good, but he repeated it so often that I doubted him. He seems 
to me a wooden-nutmeg fellow, although he has the Itev. Mr. 's cer- 
tificate." 

One of the most striking as well as amiable traits in Mr. Lawrence's char- 
acter was his absolute freedom from sectarian bitterness. Though con- 
nected with a Unitarian Church (that of Brattle street), from his first com- 
mencement in business, down to the day of his death, he had the pleasure 
of numbering among his most intimate friends, clergymen of all shades and 
theological opinions. 

It would be impossible, within the scope of this article, to give even a 
full outline of the life of such a man as Amos Lawrence. His Diary and 
Correspondence, a work of three hundred and sixty Jiages, duodecimo, com- 
piled by his son, was thought of such inestimable value to the young, that 
many of the Boston merchants presented a copy to each of their clerks ; 
one house taking sixty for that purpose. 

"The publication of the Diary of Amos Lawrence," states a print of 
the time, "naturally recalls many anecdotes of his life, and one of a cer- 
tain remarkable pocket-book that belonged to him, deserves to be reiicated. 
We will try to relate the fact in the way it was once told by Father Tay- 
lor, of Boston. On the occasion of an anniversary celebration in that city, 
& large number of orthodox clergymen were seated on the [ilatform, and 
among them was the well-known preacher to seamen. A rcuiark hail been 
dropped by one of the speakers, implying a doubt ' whether any Unitarian 
could go to heaven.' Father Taylor fired up at the word, and springing to 
his feet he exclaimed, in his indescribable manner : 'No Unitarian go to 
heaven ! Mr. Chairman, I have a word to say about that. I have this day 
seen Amos Lawrence's pocket-book. It is such a pocket-book as was never 
made before. On one fold of it is printed in gilt letters, 'Wliat shall it 
pr:3t a man if ho gain the whole worM and loose his own soul ?' You 
open another fold and read, 'The g^.d is mine, saith the Lord of Hosts.' 
On still another fold is printed, ' He that giveth to the poor, lendcth to the 
Lord.' I asked Mr. Lawrence what all this was for. He told me that he 
remembered that, as men grew old, they sometimes grew selfish, and every 
time he looked to his money, he wanted to be reminded of the great prin- 
ciples of the Gospel, by which he ought to hold and use his worldly goods; 
and therefore he kept money in each of those folds of his pocket-book, for 
all good uses which Divine Providence might suggest. Now, Mr. Chair- 
man, what are you going to do with a man who carries such a book in his 
pocket ? Do you mean to send him to bell ? Do you think the devil and 



428 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

his angels would permit a man witli principles like tliese to enter his do- 
mains ? Why, sir, such doctrines carried to hell, would make an uproar 
and revolution there more terrible than ever before known, and it never 
could be easy till he was cast out. I ask again, what do you mean to do 
with him?' Father Taylor's question was not answered; but whatever 
trouble the case he supposed might create in the locality named, certain it 
is that his own speech made quite a sensation on the platform." 

Mr. Lawrence finished his earthly pilgrimage on the last day of the year 
1852. All his temporal affairs had been arranged in view of this event ; 
and there can be no doubt but that he was fully prepared for that world of 
love to which he was undoubtedly called. 

" Keligion was eminentlj- a part of Mr. Lawrence's business — not the re- 
ligion of a dead faith oul}', but a religion in which an active faith, and the 
works of love and human charity were united with humility. His pastor 
remarks of him in his funeral discourse, that 'he was a constant worshipper 
in his (the old Brattle street) church for forty-sis years, and, for more than 
forty years, was a communicant, and for ten years a deacon, which office he 
was compelled to resign on account of continued ill-health. His Diary and 
Letters show a heart full of reverence, and imbued with a Christian vitality, 
that might put many louder and more clamorous professors to shame.' 

He not unfrequently sent to his store for one or two thousand dollars at 
a time, in small bills, to be used in the service of his charities. He never 
gave without due examination, and his gifts were more generally voluntary, 
than the results of solicitation or personal appeals. His biographer esti- 
mates the sum, which he devoted to charities during his life, and mostly 
during the last ten years of it, to be not less than seven hundred thousand 
dollars, and remarks, that 'although many persons have done more, few 
have done so much in proportion to the means they had to bestow.' 

Amos Lawrence takes a place among the great men of his time. Ho was 
not a great scholar, nor a great orator, nor a great politician. He had not 
great learning, nor great genius ; but, nevertheless, he was a great man. He 
had a t/reat heart, and any mind that could direct it so wisely as it was 
directed, is a great mind ; for wisdom in action, requires such a combination 
and proportion of qualities that any man who exhibits it, is pre-eminently 
entitled to the appellation of 'great.' " 

He was a living example of a successful merchant, who had from the 
earliest period of his business career, risen above all anticipation, and had 
never been willing to turn to advantage the ignorance or misfortunes of others. 
Even while an apprentice, in his nat've town, many of his customers relied 
upon his judgment, rather than their uwn, in the selection of goods for their 
purchase. He never deceived them. What " Amos " said was right, no 
one could gainsay. It was this sterling honesty, more than any other one 
thing, that contributed to his success in life. 



FIVE YEARS 



AMERICAN SOLDIER 



COMPRISING ADVENTURES AT PALO ALTO, RESACA DE LA PALMA, MONTEREY, VEUA 
CRUZ, CERRO GORDO, AND IN THE BATTLES IN THE VALLEV OP MEXICO, INTER- 
SPERSED WITH ANECDOTES OK 

MILITARY LIFE, IN PEACE AND IN WAR. 



If anxious mothers always had their own way, and if young men pos- 
sessed a little more knowledge, the business of the world would suffer. 
Both commerce and war, those agents of civilization, would be shorn of 
recruits, by the force of maternal influence and a vivid sense of the evils 
which these pursuits are apt to bring upon their followers. 

But young lads are ignorant, imagination is active, and they are ofteu 
lured on by the charm of novelty to rush from the quiet scenes of home, 
and launch forth upon perilous adventures. It is well that it should bo so. 
Nature has imphanted this desire in young hearts, because the world has 
use for them. Many fall by the wayside — perish miserably through perils 
by sea and perils by land : others, with broken constitutions and blasted 
hopes, crushed by poverty and wasted by disease, eke out a miserable exist- 
ence ; — yet the race, as a whole, is benefited. 

Of this unfortunate class, I am one. A little more knowledge, in my 
start in life, would not only have saved me much suflering, but would have, 
probably, preserved to this day some quite respectable gentlemen of Mes- 
00, whom I, in the waj" of business in that country, assisted in gathering to 
their fathcr.s. By 1113' early ignorance, doubtless, you can here, at this late 
period, obtain a knowledge of the life of the American Soldier, including a 
glimpse at some of the ugly shadows that are cast athwart it. 

My name is C. 51. Reeves. You never before heard of it — it is unknown 
to flime. The French have a proverb, that "the world never knows its 
great men." This is certainly a consolatory axiom to such of us as know 
the world better than it knows us. I was born in the year 182.'), in Trum- 
bull County, Ohio, and nineteen ycara after, viz: on the 9th day of Deccm- 
bt-r, 1844, descended from a stage-coach before the Monongahcla House at 
Pittsburgh, entered the clerk's office, an<l wrote my name on the hotel 
register. Between these dates, I had passed from an infant into the suc- 
cessive developments necessary to constitute a raw youth, with nineteen 
years only of rural experience. 

My business at Pittsburgh was to enlist in the army. I hud never seen 
any of the soldiers of the United States, and was under the impression that 
the armv was composed of the elite of the couiitrv — that none were taken 

(420) 



430 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

into the service, but gentlemen, fine, straiglit, good-looking Americans. So 
much was my mind exercised upon what the good qualities of men must 
be, that I greatly feared, upon being examined, I should not equal the requi- 
site standard. 

At the hotel, I took a room with a fire, and ordered up my baggage, con- 
sisting of an ancient hair-trunk, which contained a few quite common arti- 
cles of personal clothing. This was a first-class house and was crowded 
with guests, and as my attire was seedy, I expect I was the most plainly 
dressed of any in that numerous family. On retiring to my room, I thor- 
oughly overhauled my pockets, and was astonished to find that I only had 
just thirteen cents ! Well, here was a dilemma. How was I to settle my 
bill with that money ? My brain was so active with the project of enlist- 
ing, that I slept poorly, and arose very early next morning. While stand- 
ing by the stove in the office, I observed that the clerk surveyed me very 
attentively. Thinks I, you look as if you suspect I am about to slip off 
without settling my bill. I walked out, still under the discomfort of his 
sharp vision, until I turned around a corner of the street. — I was in search 
of the recruiting rendezvous, which I soon found. 

The sergeant saluted me very blandly, and invited me in to see the men 
drill. When they were through, he took his seat beside me, and inquired 
if I wished to enlist ? I replied, " Yes." "Very well," he rejoined; "have 
you considered the consequences of such a step?" On my answering in 
the affirmative, he continued, "Well, as soon as the lieutenant comes in, 
you shall be enlisted." He then went on to state what the pay of a soldier 
was, his clothing, rations, etc. When the lieutenant entered, I was duly 
enlisted, and all the papers made out. From thence, the sergeant took me 
to the garrison, a mile above the city, to be examined by the surgeon and 
sworn into the service by a magistrate. I had some delicacy in divesting 
myself of my clothing, and standing naked for the inspection of the medi- 
cal gentleman. I passed through the ordeal, however, and before night was 
an American soldier, sworn to serve for the term of five years in the army 
of the United States. 

A recruiting rendezvous is generally under the charge of a lieutenant and 
a sergeant. The duty of the latter is to instruct the candidate in all the 
particulars of the service, so that, if he should subsequently repent of it, he 
can have no excuse. By the regulations, none are to be enlisted while in- 
toxicated, but, as a general thing, no sooner does a man make his appear- 
ance at a rendezvous, than the sergeant showers upon him a torrent of ful- 
some flatter}', takes him to the nearest grog-shop, and pours whisky down 
his throat until his patriotism is at the flood, and then he is ready to " 'list." 
This is one of the reasons why so many of the verj' lowest foreigners entet 
our army, to the exclusion of a better class of men. 

The first night's experience as a soldier, is xmdying in my recollection. I 
do not believe I slept one hour. I lay in my coarse soldiers' bunk, covered 
with but a single blanket, shivering with the cold, and brooding over all the 
mishaps of my short life. I did not like the way things opened to me, 
being sadly disappointed in the kind of men taken into the service, in the 
clothing, rations, etc. In fact, nothing was as I had preconceived. A fore- 
boding sense of doing something wrong passed over me ; I felt as though I 



OF AMERICANS. 43] 

had forfeited, in a great measure, that inestimable boon to all Americans— 
liberty '. and that I had subjected myself to the authority of those above, 
whom to obey would be degradation, and for this there was no remedy. 
After following up this train of thought for awhile, I would chase away the 
phantoms by the reflection, that I would be occupying an honorable po.si- 
tion — the -'military glory," so to speak, would buoy me up. I thought too, 
that the army would bo a good school to me ; that if I did not find every- 
thing to my mind, I would bo fully compensated by the knowledge I should 
gain of human nature and the world. In the morning, I awoke, feeling 
very bad from the loss of sleep. Our breakfast consisted of weak coffee, 
baker's bread, and a few slices of ham — no butter, no milk for coflee, and 
no kind of vegetables. With the exception of bean-soup or potatoes some- 
times at dinner, this was all the variety of diet we had at the rendezvous. 

After breakfast, I had issued to me my first year's clothing. The next 
thing was to dispose of my citizen's clothing. John, the cook, introduced 
me to an old man, who kept a pawn-broker's shop, and bought and sold 
cast-off clothing. I bundled up m}- relics, passed them over to him, and 
got him to go with me to the Monongahcla House for my trunk. Here he 
paid my bill, which was one dollar and fifty cents, seized one end of the 
trunk to help rae out with it, when the clerk, who had scrutinized me so 
attentively, called out in ringing tones, "Young man, what under heavens 
have you enlisted for — why have you thrown yourself away ?" I muttered 
something in reply — that it was "my business." "Come on !" called out 
the old man, pulling at the other end of the trunk. " You have entirely 
ruined yourself," continued the clerk ; " you had better have gone down to 
a steamboat, and worked for your daily bread." " Come on !" .again shouted 
my companion, getting out of patience, and dragging me and the trunk out 
of the door, from whence we made for his dingy shop as fast as possible. 

On returning to my quarters, I sat down on a bench and gave myself up 
to reflection. The words of the hotel clerk rang in my cars ; I saw how 
completely I had deceived myself — that as a soldier of the United States, 
I was but little better than a slave, and with the most abandoned and dis- 
gusting of men as associates. I thought of my home in Ohio. Would I 
ever see the faces of the loved ones again ? 

I was the eighth of that " batch " of recruits. The term " batch " is ap- 
plied to any number of recruits collected and sent together to a military 
depot. Two others were afterward added. Seven of this batch were 
Irish ; one was a German, and two only Americans. The Irish were as 
filthy, debased, and illiterate creatures as could be got out of a whole ship 
load of paupers ; they were useless save to pour down bad rum and to 
quarrel — eventually, all of these either deserted or were dishonorably dis- 
charged. The German was a dirty, lazy lout, of whom I shall again speak. 
Keller, the other American, was a six-foot Pennsylvanian, who, like my- 
self, had taken a resolution not to drink liquor while in the army. A mu- 
tual separation ensued between us two and tho others, and, as a natural 
consequence, a common eiimity arose. The drunkards became very much 
enraged against us, for not joining in with them in stealing and smuggling 
liquor into the quarters, and swore revenge on the "spalpeens of Ameri- 
cans ;" they never attempted anything but once, however, when, in a den- 



432 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

peratG figlit, we teetotallers camo off victorious. In their drunlten orgies, 
they hroke the furniture, yelled and laughed, and with demoniac expres- 
sions on their countenances, reminded me forcibly of a description I onco 
read of fiends just emerging from pandemonium, to visit our earth and ter- 
rify and torment mankind. 

On January 18th, we learned we were to leave on the next day for New- 
port (Ky.) Barracks, there to join a large number of recruits ; from thenco 
the whole were to be dispatched to supply a deficiency in the Fourth In- 
fantry, at Camp Salubrity, on Upper Hed River, in Louisiana. I cheerfully 
packed up my things, and, as I had on my new, neatly-fitting suit, was, and 
it is not saying much, the best-looking man of the batch. Our Irish and 
the German were perfectly content with their bungling garments in any 
shape. 

As we were paraded in front of the quarters next morning, some of the 
boys of Pittsburgh — and worse cannot be found anywhere — gathered about 
us by dozens, and followed us to the steamer, all the while yelling out at 
the top of their voices, "llere's the dirty sogers !" "Soger, will j'ou go to 
work ?" Then they would answer the question themselves, "No, I'll sell 
my shirt first !" "Here, dirty soger; going to be shot at — and missed, eh!" 
"What's the price of whisky, soger?" etc. And thus thej' kept it up, 
hooting at us as though we were a gang of thieves on the way to a jail. I 
am naturally " thin skinned," and what were my emotions on this occasion, 
the reader may guess. 

Out AVest, when they wish to express contempt for any person, they say, 
" he's a miserable stern-wheel affair." The boat we were put upon was the 
Queen, and one of the worst of even stern-wheel steamers. She was an 
" old tub," and very dirty. We were put on deck ; a great portion of her 
weather-boarding had been torn off, letting in the cold and snow. A barrel 
of biscuit was set on board. This was to constitute our provision until we 
reached Newport — no coffee, no meat, and no place to cook any if we had 
it. " Well," thought I, " Uncle Sam, j'ou are quite a generous old fellow, 
after all !" Once, the sergeant condescended to come down from the cabin, 
to see how we were getting along. To our inquiries, if we had been left to 
starve, he replied, that " the lieutenant alhived a barrel of bread was enough 
for us '." We had the gracious privilege of .an old stove, and plenty of 
■wood. At night, we slept on some pork barrels, which wo packed around 
the stove, and thus managed to keep from freezing. I confess, I felt as if I 
was an outcast from society — a criminal on his way to some penal colon/. 

We remained at Newport three days. As this is a general recruiting sta- 
tion, sixty-five recruits were ready to go on with us. All were again sub- 
jected to a rigid examination by the surgeon at the post. The whole were 
simultaneously ordered to undress in the large sleeping-room of the b.ar- 
racks. No sooner said than done — a hundred, nearly, of the genus homo, 
of the masculine gender, stood forth, ready to undergo the scrutinizing ex- 
amination of the medical inspector. After leaping over benches, jumping 
.around, stooping down, raising up one arm, and then the other, as was com- 
ra.anded, our examiner beg.an to thump us in the breast, and beat us all over 
the person, as though we wore some new kind of drums. He also looked 
into our mouths, examined our teeth, and, in short, did everything but turn 



OF AMERICANS. 433 

ca insiile out. Fhulin;^ no defects, he inonouuced us able-bodied incu, and 
ordered us to dress. — So ended this degrading scene. 

With three excoi:itions, I never suffered so much from hunger as while at 
Ibis post. Take a man from citizens' Hfe to that of the soldier, and hia 
powers of endurance will be most effectually' tried, esjjeeially if, like my- 
self, he be at the time young and growing. This dejirivation of the food 
tliat government had provided, was owing to the rascality of the first -ser- 
geant of the barracks, who, having the management of the busines.<, with- 
held our full rations, in order that ho might save the Hour, beans, sugar and 
coffee for his own purposes. I saw some poor recruits selling their spare 
clothing to the old soldiens, and then running to the grocery to buy addi- 
tional provisions. 

We left Newport for Now Orleans on the steamer Champion. As deck 
passengers, we were allowed to go on the hurricane-deck, where I passed 
whole days in gazing upon the river scenery. Upon the great " Father of 
Waters," I was especially delighted with the glorious panorama, and felt 
sorry when evening came to shut out the scene. Often, however, 1 would 
remain until late at night, scarcely knowing which most to admire, the gor- 
geous starry vault above, or the broad placid Mississippi, hedged in on both 
sides by the dark and silent forests, and flowing in ever-varying majestic 
curves on its return home to the gulf. 

The recruits were under the immediate charge of Crosby, an old soldier, 
and a complete scamp, lie kept back from us our full allowance of rations, 
that he might sell the surplus at New Orleans, as we subsequently learned. 
Some of our men discovered and slyly tapped a barrel of whisky with a 
"imlet, and, until found out, sucked away at the vile stuff. Fur two or 
three days, I had observed some of my comrades cooking and eating eggs, 
very freeli/. Not being in the secret, I was envious of their good fortune in 
haviuo' the means to purchase such a luxury, which I supposed they had 
done at some of the landings on the river. On one of these occasions, I 
stood gazing at a soldier enjoying himself over a largo dish, my mouth 
fairly watering over the scene, for our slim fare had put my stomach on the 
"qui vive," most anxiously hoping ho would invite me to share with him, 
when he said, " Iteeves, why don't you cook yourself some eggs ? — real 
nice old follow!" "Humph !" I answered, "if I only had the money to 
buy them." " Why, God bless you, man !" he rejoined, "you don't want 
any money ; take them like the rest— only be sly about it, or you may bo 
caught!" "Where do you get them?" I eagerly inquired. "There!" 
continued he, pointing to a barrel that stood end-up amid a large number on 
their sides ; " take your haversack (a bag for food), watch your oiiportiinity, 
slip along close to the wheel-house, and get as many as you can." " My 
eye !" rexclaimed, "and is th.at the way you have all got the eggs you 
have been eating the past two days '!" It is only necessary to add, that the 
collapsed state of my stomach blunted all my conscientious scruples, and cro 
Ion'' I had a realizing sense of the efficacy of a good dish of fried eggs. 
There was some swearing when that pilfering was discovered ; but no one 
knew anything of it — the soldiers hri4 InuyJit their er/gs ! 

At Vicksburgh, a Ked River planter came on board with forty negroes. 
The drunken soldiers, the smell of the poor darkeys, and tlie yelping and 



434 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

.filth of the crew, were all horrible. The slaves would throw themselves 
around the boilers — the hands ditto ; soldiers would trample and stumble 
over them ; negroes would growl, soldiers curse, and the hands yelp — all 
forming a most delectable scene.' Poor Wilson, from Maryland, a slave 
State, I pitied him from my whole heart ! for he was sick all the way 
down, and to have to eat, drink, and sleep with a pack of cotton-field ne- 
groes, took him down effectually — but he lived through it to see harder 
times. Such is a soldier's life. 

From New Orleans, we continued on up through wild and picturesque 
scenery three hundred miles, to Grand Ecore, and then, by a march of three 
miles, arrived one Sabbath afternoon at Camp Salubrity. Here, with twelve 
others, I was assigned to company " B." Two of these, Wilson and Ins- 
keep, were men for whom I had formed an especial liking, and whom I 
shall have occasion again to mention. 

Camp Salubrity was a collection of log-huts built by the soldiers, situated 
in a rich rolling country, interspersed with dark gloomy forests of pine, and 
well adapted to sugar and cotton. The original inhabitants, Spaniards and 
French, were giving way to an American population. The mild climate 
produces myriads of fleas, red-bugs, musquitoes and chamolions ; the latter 
resembles our lizard in size and shape, is harmless, and occupies its time 
mainly in fly-catching. We were much annoyed by the fleas ; these, how- 
ever, were a light afiiiction compared to the red-bug — a sort of wood-tick 
that buries itself in the flesh, causing an intolerable itching, rendered ten- 
fold more tormenting by scratching. The only alleviating remedy was to 
grease well the parts affected. For awhile, every evening at camp, might 
be seen men and women greasing for red-bugs, for when this was neglected 
a sleepless night was certain to ensue. 

Our army officers are mostly a meritorious set of men ; but, like all other 
human beings, have their failings. No kind of breeding will make gentle- 
men of naturally coarse-grained men. Ofiicers of this class are generally 
tyrannical, and, as my experience taught me, almost invariably cowardly. 
It would be thought degrading in an officer to be in the least familiar with 
the men. He is never to address a soldier as Mr., but to use his surname 
only. In addressing an officer, a soldier must always call him by his title, 
and give the salute : his manner must be perfectly respectful and dignified, 
and he is never to enter the presence of his superiors except on business. 
Government designs that the oiScers should exercise a kind of fatherly c^^re 
over the men, and those who do so, and many there are of this sort, win 
their love and gratitude. 

All this is necessary to discipline. It is the same at sea with sailors and 
their officers. I will digress to give an anecdote I once heard, as tending to 
show how an act of condescension on the part of an officer astonishes an in- 
ferior. The late Lieutenant K. S. Woodward, of the revenue service, was 
pacing the deck of his vessel, when a knife, dropped from above, passed 
close by his head, and stuck quivering in the deck at his feet. The lieu- 
tenant reprimanded a sailor he saw aloft for his carelessness. He subse- 
quently ascertained he had blamed the wrong man. On the first opportu- 
nity, he asked his pardon in the presence of his companioiis. The man 
was so flustered at such an unusual act on the part of his superior, that he 



OF AMERICANS. 435 

bluanod and stammered to reply, but could not utter a word. An act like 
this wins the undying afl'cction of the men, and they will follow such a 
man to the last. 

Many of the young graduates of West Point are perfect tyrants ; but a 
campaign of heavy marches, lying out at night, and undergoing other hard- 
ships, takes the wind out of the sails of these young gentlemen amazingly. 
Often have I had ray blood boil to hear some one of these youngsters, for 
a mere trifle, order a gray-headed old soldier to undergo a most painful and 
ignominious punishment; yet there was no help for it — to resist an officer 
is a high crime, and to strike him, dealh. Tyrannical officers are hated like 
reptiles. If one is so gross as to be beneath the respect of his men, the po- 
sition must be honored. Often have I heard soldiers, in speaking of such, 
say : "It is not him that I respect, but Uncle Sam's cloth which he carries 
on his shoulders !" 

The washing for the men is done by laundresses, of which there arc a 
few to each regiment. These are generally soldiers' wives, and usually pos- 
sess rather questionable characters. Many a pure young girl, having bo- 
come enamored of a good-looking soldier, has left home and friends to 
share his fortunes as a wife. For awliile she would continue a strictly chaste.' 
and lovely woman ; but life in a camp is polluting — temptations would 
come, and in a few short years she would be changed into a bloated, sol- 
tishly disgusting creature, too degraded for companionship with even the 
lowest of men. After a recruit is turned to duty, "guard " is the first he has 
to perform. In time of war, when near an enemy, it is the most resijonsible 
of all situations, for the safety of a whole army often depends on the vigil- 
ance of a single sentinel. It is a great military crime for one to be found 
sleeping on his post. Certain matters connected with the duty of a sentinel 
in standing post, require presence of mind : such as receiving aright the 
officer of the day, facing in the right manner, promptly giving his orders, 
hailing at night, recollecting the countersign, of whom to demand it, etc. 
Even old soldiers often get into trouble for allowing the officer of the daj- 
to come up before he hails, etc. When I first mounted post, I was under 
considerable trepidation lest I should blunder. As ill luck would have it, 
Major Allen, the officer of the day, came unexpectedly toward me ; my 
heart was in my mouth, I trembled like an aspen, but managed to receivo 
him aright. He asked, "What are your orders on this post, sir?" Bless 
my soul I I could not utter a word, though I tried with all my might; my 
chin quivered ; my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth, and I stood 
as mute as a dumb man. As it happened, the major was easy with the 
men, and relieved me by inquiring, " if I w.is a recruit ?" My tongue then 
obeyed me, and I answered, "Yes, sir." After admonishing me, he ti-rned 
and left. 

The next duty was " fatigue." Most of the lime working parties were 
sent into the woods, to make shingles and chipboards fur repairing the quar- 
ters. When I came off guard, I was ordered into the wood.s, and went at 
it with a will. One of the old soldiers saw me, and coming up, said, " That 
-vill never do ; you must old soldier!" I asked him to explain. "You 
must," continued he, " be awkward with the axe, and act as though you had 
never chopped a slick in your life, otherwise these oflicors will kiil you with 
28 



436 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

work." I now " smelt a mouse," and saw why the other soldiers were, as 
I had thought, lazy. I was ravenous that day, and could have eaten three 
times my rations. Since I had enlisted, I had not been satisfied with but 
two or three exceptions. I often suffered from extreme hunger, and would 
beg food from the cook or of some of the old soldiers who lived on whisky. 
This working in the woods brought on untold pangs of hunger. Others 
suffered in the same way ; many is the time I have seen men seize a dirty, 
mouldy biscuit that had been thrown away, and devour it with the eager- 
ness of starvation. And thus it was with me, until I actually got starved 
down to a point that my full rations were sufScient. This was not under 
tW'O years. 

While hero most of the hard stock deserted, so that we finally got win- 
nowed down to a pretty repectaljle body of men. Lambert, the dirty Ger- 
man, tried to desert ; not being very sharp, he was caught and sentenced to 
receive fifty lashes, which were administered one Sunday afternoon. He 
yelled most vociferously under the infliction, and was a much better soldier 
afterward. 

In June, two events occurred : I was made corporal, and our regiment, 
the Fourth Infantry, was ordered to Texas, hostilities being threatened be- 
tween us and Mexico. We soon left for New Orleans, glad to escape from 
that flea-bitten country, and, on our arrival there, were ordered into the bar- 
racks until the vessels should be ready. We were joined by the Third In- 
fantry, and Bragg's company of artillery, afterward so famous at Buena 
Vista ; the whole under the command of General Taylor. 

In the latter part of July, we embarked to cross the gulf to Texas. Tho 
vessel which our regiment occupied was the Sophia, a slow sailer, very old, 
and a mere hulk. Not a berth was put up, and we were obliged to sleep 
on tho decks, which were covered with filth. Our passage was a stormy 
one, and the crowding of so many between decks, and the filth consequent 
from so much sea-sickness, rendered it a very disagreeable voyage. 

It was on tho 15th of August, 1845, when we arrived and encamped at 
Corpus Christi. We remained there until the ensuing March. Corpus 
Christi, i. e., Body of Christ, was a miserable village of a few huts only, a 
mile or so south of the Nueces, and in a prairie country. By November, 
from additions to our forces, we were four thousand and fifty strong. It 
was the purpo.se of government to collect a large force here, to be ready for 
any emergencj' ; but when we finally moved it had been reduced to a mere 
skeleton, from disease and death, and other causes — many sinking under 
the dysentery owing to the unhealthiness of the country. 

A kind of disease prevailed among many of the men here, which was 
called moon-blindness. Its effects were very singular. Men laboring under 
it would be stone blind when the moon was shining brightly, while at all 
other times they possessed their sight as usual. The medical men could 
not account for it. Like the yellow-fever, cholera, Tyler-gripe, or any 
other epidemic, the characteristics, and not the cause of the disease, are. 
ever known. Our carap was on a shell bank, and in hot weather the rays 
of the sun were reflected upon our persons by the shells with such in- 
tensity, that at times it seemed as if we should suffocate. The skin of the 
dark complexioned men became tanned, while that of the light complex- 



OF AM ERICA XS. 437 

ioned men pceloil off; and the whole army gi-ow of almost negro Uackncss. 
Having a light skin, my face peeled, and I presume I shed the skin off my 
lips, cheeks and tip of the nose fifty times. This continued peeling at last 
changed into a continuous sore — many being seen going round with patches 
of paper on their faces. 

I never witnessed such severe thunder storms as here. A sentinel while 
one day w-alking his post with fixed bayonet was struck, his musket broken. 
the barrel twisted like an augur-bit, and, strange to B.iy, the man was not 
killed. We lived in tents, and ours .were old ones which, having been worn 
out in the Florida war, let in water like selves. Wc suffered terribly in the 
winter season from the cold rains and cutting winds. 

I must relate a little incident that occurred while here, in which one of 
our drummer boys and General Taylor were concerned. This boy, Tatnall, 
by name, was often tipsey, and when so, uncontrollable in bis propensity for 
practical jokes. A little after dark one evening, old Zack was sitting in 
his marquee, when Tatnall came along unperceived by any of the officers, 
and, being on a spree, was, as usual, on mischief bent ; so he out with his 
knife, and rip, rip, went the cords of the general's tent, and before he had 
time to escape, down it went burying him in its folds. Tatnall tlicn ran 
awav at full speed. As Taylor's orderly was absent, when he had crawled 
out he came over to Garland's tent, where I w.is stationed as orderly, and 
got me to go with a detail of men and put things to rights. This being 
done and my men dismissed, he inquired of me, "if I knew anything of 
the fellow that did it ?" Now, I had .seen the whole transaction, and when 
Tatn.all r.an, he passed so near me that I recognized him. Kot wishii;g to 
expose him, I evaded the question. "General, 1 did see some one run; 
but the night is so dark that it is almost impossible to distinguish a man." 
"The scoundrel !" exclaimed old Zack, "if I knew wdio it was, I would 
pull his cars sorely." And this was all that was said about it by that easy 
tempered old gentleman. 

Time passed wearily at Corpus Christi— hard <iuty and plenty of it ; a 
soldier must take things patiently, and, like a machine, cannot move except 
at the bidding of a master hand. We were glad when the order came to 
bre.ak up and m.arch to the Rio Grande. We moved in two divisions : that 
of Twiggs on the 8th, and Worth's on the 11th of March, 1816. Our regi- 
ment was in the latter division. This was my first m.arch, and also that of 
a large part of the troops. The first day was one of incredible fatigue to 
me, for I had on an ill-fitting pair of shoes, so that nay feet were soon badly 
blistered, and I was also detailed to watch a soldier who was so beastly drunk 
that he required constant help. At night I wa-s so lame and .sore that I 
could not stir without excruciating pain. Thinks I, if this is the way it 13 
to be, I will never get through ; I shall die with misery ! 

The soldier usually carries on a march, his musket, weighing fourteen 
pounds ; cartridge-box, if filled with ball, eight pounds ; which, with belts, 
bayonets, scabbard, haversack, etc., in all make a weight of about twenty-six 
pounds. Aside from these, is his knapsack, with overcoat, blanket and change 
of clothing, which brings up the total burden to over forty pounds. Generally 
we man.a^cd to get ourknajisacks taken into the baggage w.igons. A soldier on 
the march is bound up bv his belts like a barrel, the cool air cannot circulata 



438 ADVENTURES A^T) ACHIEVEMENTS 

under his thick woolen clothes, for he is not in a situation to throw open 
his coat to the bracing grateful breeze. We found the large men were the 
first to break down on a march. The light delicate fellows, that a stranger 
in such matters would suppose would be the first to give out, were the very 
men to move with the most rapidity, carry the greatest burdens, stand the 
longest marches, and endure the greatest hard.ships. It is on the principle 
Been through all nature — strength never increases in proportion to weight. The 
man who weighs two hundred pounds has eighty pounds more to carry than 
one who weighs one hundred and twenty, yet his strength to carry that in 
crease is by no means in a like proportion. Small sized men for a cam 
paign are always best. 

When it comes to that especial duty for which soldiers are created, viz : 
fighting, a man should be, if possible, unincumbered, as much so as a laborer 
in a harvest field. How would it look for a farmer to order his hands upon 
his entrance into his fields of grain, to put on heavy woolen clothes ; then to 
button them up to the throat over a thick leather stock, or dog collar ; then 
to strap over these a parcel of belts ; then, again, to pack all their clothing 
into a knapsack, and strap this on their backs? How much work would he 
get out of them ? Yet this is precisely the way that a soldier has to do. 
Fighting in battle is the most laborious work that ever fell to the lot of mor- 
tal man, and it would seem as if one should be dressed accordingly. Sailors, 
who are differently situated, when they board an enemy's vessel, often strip 
everything but their trowsers. 

The country between the Nueces and the Rio Grande is mostly prairie. 
One day we were entirely out of water. The part of the prairie we then 
marched over had been burnt by the Indians, and a fine, suffocating dust 
arose from the ashes and sand, which got into our mouths and nostrils, and 
added to our sufferings. Several dogs belonging to the officers perished for 
want of water, and it was feared that some of the horses would likewise 
die. In the midst of our choking thirst it seemed as if the fates had turned 
against us. About noon, when man and beast were nearly exhausted, we 
came in sight of two small and beautiful lakes. " Thank God ! " — " Good ! 
Good !" — " Now, wo '11 drink !" was shouted out by the poor men, as each 
company and division came in sight of those glorious sheets — " Water ! 
water ! " was the cry ; and as it passed to the rear, " Water ! my God ! 
water ! " was heard from a thousand dry and parched throats. The men 
began to quicken their pace ; they broke their ranks in their haste to get to 
the delicious liquid. The officers tried to preserve order ; but they might 
as well have tried to have stopped a herd of wild buffaloes. Each man 
rushed forward regardless of his neighbor, and ere they were within several 
hundred yards of the lakes a thousand tin cups had suddenly been un- 
strapped and fiercely clutched, ready to dip in the precious element. 

On we go ; now we ascend the little hillock on the edge of the lake ; 
down we rush madly, blindly, into the sparkling fluid, nnd jump in where 
there will be no trouble to get our cups full. We dip — we raise it hurriedly 
and nervously to our mouths. Ye Gods ! we dr — ! No we don't ! it chokes 
us ; we can't swallow that stuff. " What in is that ? " said an old sol- 
dier, who in his hurry had let some go down, and ere he had spoken the 
uhole truth flashed on our minds. Salt! ves, saxt ! and so much so' 



OF AMERICANS. 439 

that pure salt had collected on the edge of the lake. "Don't drink, mm ! 
don't drink !" shouted out those vvlio had been bitten ; but they all had to 
taste for themselves before they would believe. If those lakes had never 
before been the cause of any profanity, I think that on this occasion they re- 
ceived their full share. What bitter curses were poured out upon them ! 
We sullenly resumed our march, and moved on for about four miles when 
we came to a hole of rain-water, full of animalcula;, manure, etc. ; it tiisted 
to me most delicious, and I drank four cups, brim full, without stopping. 

On the 18th, having overtaken Twiggs' division, we arrived at the Colo- 
rado River. Some Mexican cavalry appeared on the ojiposito banks and 
signified that any attempt to cross would be an act of hostility. After we 
had got over, the whole army marched in battle array on tlie prairie, so as to 
be ready for those soutliern gentlemen should tliey be desirous of giving us 
a brush. I was peculiarly impressed by a singular kind of "frui'l," that was 
here to be found in the chaparral ; large quantities of human skulls had 
been picked up by people traveling through, and hung on the bushes. 
These were skulls of whites and Indians that had lost their lives in the con- 
tinual warfare going on here from time immemorial. The skull of many a 
wealthy old Spaniard, that had lost its vitality by having been carried by its 
owner too far from homo, graced the limb of some musquaet tree. 

On the 28th of March, we arrived opposite Matamoras, and planted the 
United States flag on the banks of the Rio Grande. The next day, a depu- 
tation of Mexican officers, dressed like peacocks, came over, and a conference 
wa.s held a-s to the objects in advancing the army. They threatened to fire 
upon us if we did not leave, hence it became necessary to fortify our posi- 
tion, and Fort Mansfield, afterward called Fort Brown', was built. The 
country people began to come in with eggs, milk, bread, chickens, and a 
liquor called "Muscal," and with them some spies. Numerous guerrilla 
parties scoured the country, so that it became dangerous for .single men or 
small parties to leave the camp ; these bands of prowling Mexicans were 
mostly banditti. The chief quarter-master, Colonel Cross, was killed by 
Mexicans, one afternoon, a little outside of camp. A few days later, a detail 
of men went out on a scout under Lieutenant Porter, when a heavy r.ain 
comin"- on rendered their flint-lock muskets useless; they fell into an am- 
buscade of lancers who killed one man outright and mortally wounded 
their lieutenant. Our men tried to fire, but not a musket would go ofl'; the 
lancers seeing their situation charged upon them, and they, panic-stricken, 
ran, paying no attention to the cries of Porter for assistance. A more fright- 
ened set of men I never saw than were those when they entered tlie camp. 
In their flight they were separated, and came straggling in one after another, 
and no two of them told the same story. Poor Porter was afterward found 
welterin" in his blood, stabbed in more than a dozen places. On the 24th 
of April, Thornton's comp.any of dragoons were attacked, sixteen Uillod, and 
the rest made prisoners. Three days later, the camp of Cajitain Walker's 
Texan Rangers was surprised. 

All kinds of rumors were now afloat .about the strength and position of 
the enemy, and curious lights were continually to be seen during the night 
at Matamoras ; rockets were sent up, bugles sounding, drums beating, etc. 
Our men know that we should soon have a fight, but thoy were calm and 



440 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMEXTS 

cool ; a careless uncoucorn appeared to be the pervading feeling in that 
little array. 

Throwing a garrison into Fort Brown, General Taylor, on the 1st of May, 
broke up the camp and started with, the whole army for Point Isabel, to 
bring up a large depot of provisions to the fort ; we arrived there the suc- 
ceeding forenoon, and were set to work building entrenchments, while Cap- 
tain May and other officers were sent out to scour the country between the 
Point and the fort, to ascertain if possible where the enemy were lurking; 
pome parties were detailed to load up teams, and the rest worked on the 
entrenchments. For my part, I felt as if I had as lief fight as not — others 
were like me ; for with hard work on the trenches, marching and losing 
sleep, and living on bread and meat that was unfit for a dog, I became as 
careless and cross as need be. 

On Sunday morning, May 3d, about reveille, boom ! boom ! came down 
from the direction of Fort Brown. "What's that?" exclaimed a multi- 
tude of voices at once. For the first time there was considerable excite- 
ment ; the officers and men respectively gathered in groups. It was at the 
time scarcely believed to be, as it in truth was, a fight at the fort. The next 
day a party of dragoons g.alloped into camp, bringing the report that a large 
body of Mexicans were advancing on the prairie. The drum beat to arms, 
and the troops par.ided ; but it proved a false alarm. 

On the 7th, the army set out on its return to Fort Brown, and after pro- 
ceeding about seven miles, we encamped beside a pond, where the musque- 
toes and rattle-snakes were so plenty that we could not sleep. The next 
morning we resumed our march, calculating to get through if nothing pre- 
vented ; but about noon, the dragoons brought intelligence that the enemy 
were in force in front. ."Now we'll have it, boys !" .said the men ; and, I 
must confess, I felt a sudden thrill at this intelligence. General Taylor in 
a few minutes ordered a halt beside a pond of water, for the men to fill their 
canteens. 

Here we got our first view of the enemy. " Look ! look ! Oh ! look at 
them!" cried several at once. "My stars! what a host!" exclaimed 
others. We now advanced slowly in order of battle, occasionally halting, 
until we were within a little over half a mile distant from them. Their 
appearance was exceedinglj' grand : directly in front stood, their infantry, 
■with here and there an interval of artillery — their bright brass guns reflect- 
ing the rays of the sun. On each side, stretching over the prairie, was their 
cavalry, with a host of sharp-pointed, bright-shining lances with their pen- 
dants of red and blue. Vast masses of infantry, in rear of their front line, 
were moving into different positions for the coming fray, and their field- 
officers were galloping up and down, giving out their respective orders. 
When all was completed, their army stood perfectly still ; their right rest- 
ing on a dense thicket of chaparral, and their left stretching across the road, 
and protected at the end by a swamp. Their whole line was about one 
mile in length ; they had eleven field-pieces and about six thousand men. 
It was an awe-inspiring spectacle— those Mexicans on the field of Palo 
Alto. 

Now let us look at our little army. Our regiments, from sickness and 
other causes,_ had not over one-half of the usual number of men, and hen 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 44]_ 

we were on the cLiy of battle in a uiioerably weak condition. Tiic company 
to wliicU I belonged, "B," had only sixteen bayonets. We had nine regi- 
ments, and they numbered, officers and all, but a little over twenty-two 
liiiiidred men; but there was a self-reliance among theni that seemed to 
augur success. No boasting was Iieard, none expressed a desire to have u 
brush with the enemy ; good soldiers never boast of what they arc going to 
do or have done, nor speak in terras of derision of their enemy. I have 
heard boasting braggarts, with oaths, swear "I'll fix 'em! I'll put them 
tlirough ! " and then, when the balls were flying thick and fast, I have seen 
these same men hide in ditches or behind rocks, crying like children. Good 
soldiers feel as if they were in a situation that was disagreeable — that thej' 
had rather not be in such business, but a sense of duty impels them on — a 
strong sense of honor not to disgrace their country and flag. It is said that 
a soldier is a mere mercenary machine : this is not so, for the more charac- 
ter and mind a man has the better is he as a soldier. In our battles in 
Mexico, 1 believe that the enemy would have been as thoroughly beaten if 
h-alf the officers had been absent. It was a knowledge oi the laatcn'al o{ 
his army that led General Taylor to say to General La Vega, that " all bis 
men were generals." Each man went into and fought a battle as though 
everything depended upon his individual exertions ; and it is this sentiment 
that nerves men to invincibility. It is very common to say that this officer 
did so and so — that officer took such a battery — when, in trutli, in nine cases 
out of ten, the whole business was done ere they came up, and they had to 
walk over the dead bodies of their own soldiers before they could claim the 
honor. "To him that hath, much shall be given," peculiarly ajiplios in 
such cases. 

General Taylor, for simple hard fighting, was an excellent officer, but he 
knew little of tactics, rarely put any military evolution in practice, and had 
not the confidence of the army like Worth and Scott. In this battle we 
had two light batteries — Ringgold's and Duncan's — of four pieces each, and 
two eighteen-pound iron guns, under the command of Lieutenant Churchill, 
and the battle was mainly fought with artillery. The eighteen-pouuders 
were on the right of our regiment, which was near the center of our line ; I 
was on the extreme loft of the regiment. CliurchiU's guns were each drawn 
by two yoke of oxen. A Texan boy drove one of the teams ; as we were 
coming into position his coolness was remarkable, and his talk to his oxen 
amusing. "Go along, buck !" he said, "if you're killed, you are fat and 
will make good beef." When all was ready, both armies stood still foi 
about twenty minutes, each waiting for the other to begin the work of death, 
and during this time, I did not see a single man of the enemy move ; they 
stood like statues. 

We remamed quiet with two exceptions; General Taylor, followed by 
his stafl", rode from left to right at a slow pace, with his right leg tlirowii 
over like a woman, and as he passed each regiment, ho spoke w-ords of en- 
couragement. I know not what he said to the others, but when he came 
up to where wo stood, he looked steadily at us ; I suppose, to see what efl'ect 
the circumstances in which we were placed had upon us, and, as he gazed, 
he said: "Tlie bayonet, my luirdy cocks! the bayonet is the thivg!" The 
other occasion was that of Lieutenant Blake, of the Engineers, who voluii- 



442 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

teered to gallop along the enemy's line, in front of both armies, and count 
their guns ; and so close did he go, that he might have been shut a hundred 
times. One of the officers of the enemy, doubtless thinking he had some 
communication to make, rode out to meet him ; Blake, however, paid no 
attention to him, but rode on, and then returned and reported to Taylor. 

Thus stood those two belligerent armies, face to face. What were the 
feelings of those thousands ! How many thoughts and fears were crowded 
into those few moments ! Look at our men ! a clammy sweat is settled all 
over faces slightly pale, not from cowardly fear, but from an awful sense of 
peril combined with a determination not to flinch from duty. These are the 
moments in which true soldiers resign themselves to their fate, and console 
themselves witli the reflection that whatever may befall them they will act 
with liomyr ; these are the moments when the absolute coward suff'ers more 
than death — when, if not certain he would be shot in his tracks, he would 
turn and flee. Fighting is very hard work ; the man who has passed 
through a two hours' fight, has lived through a great amount of mental and 
physical labor. At the end of a battle 1 always found that I had perspired 
BO profusely as to wet through all my thick woolen clothing, and when I 
had got cool, I was as sore as if I had been beaten all over with a club. 
When the battle commences, the feelings undergo a change. Reader, did 
you ever see your house on fire ? if so, it was then you rushed into great 
danger ; it was then you went over places, climbed up walls, lifted heavy 
loads, which you never could have done in your cooler moments ; you then 
have experienced some of the excitement of a soldier in battle. I always 
knew my danger — that at any moment I was liable to be killed, yet such 
was my excitement that I never fully realized it. All men arc not alike ; 
some are cool ; some are perfectly wild or crazy ; others are so prostrated 
by fear that they are completely imnerved — an awful sinking and relaxation 
of all their energies takes place, pitiable to behold ; they tremble lilce an 
aspen, slink into ditches and covert places, cry like children, and are totally 
insensible to shame — dead to every emotion but the overwhelming fear of 
instant death. We had a few, and but a few, of such in our army. 

As the two armies were facing each other, it was remarkable to see the 
coolness of our men ; there they stood, chewing bits of biscuit, and talking 
about the Mexicans — some wondering if they would fight ; others allow- 
ing that they would, and like demons, etc. I kept my eye on the artillery 
of the enemy, and happened to be looking toward their right-wing, when 
suddenly a white curl of smoke sprang up there from one of their guns, and 
then I saw [he dust fly some distance in front where the ball struck. In- 
stantly another, and then another rich curl of smoke arose, succeeded by a 
booming sound, and the shot came crashing toward us. The enemy fired 
very rapidly, and their balls knocked the dust about us in all directions — 
some went over our heads, others struck the ground in front and bounded 
away. 

Our batteries no\t went to work, and poured in upon them a perfect storm 
of iron ; Lieutenant Churchill and his men began with his eighteen-pound- 
ers, and when the first was fired, it made such a loud report that our men 
gave a spontaneous shout, which seemed to inspire us with renewed confi- 
dence. I could hear every word the lieutenant said to his men. When the 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 443 

first shot was fircil, he watched the ball, saying, " Too high, men ; trv :in- 
other!"— "too low, men; try again— tho third time is the charm !" The 
third shot was fired, and I saw with my own eyes the dreadful elTect of that 
and the following shots. " That 's it, my boys 1 " shouted Churchill, jumii- 
ing up about two feet ; "you have them now! keep her at that!" and so 
they did, and every shot tore complete lanes right through the enemy's 
lines; but they stood it manfully. The full chorus of battle now raged ; 
twenty-three pieces of artillery belched forth their iron hail. 

We were ordered to lie down in the grass to avoid the shot ; this jjuzzled 
the enemy, and they could not bring their guns to bear upon u.s, making our 
loss very small. While in this position, a six-pound ball grazed the head 
of Wickes, of G company, who yelled "I'm killed!" Many wore the 
narrow escapes: one ball came within si.K inches of my left side. The 
force of the shot was tremendous ; a liorse's body was no obstacle at all ; 
a man's leg was a mere pipe-stem. I watched the shot as it struck the roots 
of the grass, and it was astonishing how the dust flew. In about an hour, 
the grass caught on fire, and the clouds of smoke shut out the opposing 
armies from view. We had not as yet lost a man from our regiment. In 
the obscurity, the enemy changed their line, and the eighteen-pounders, 
supported by our regiment, took a new position on a little rise of ground. 
As we moved on to the spot, a six-pound shot carried away the lower jaw 
of Captain Page, and then took off a man's head on the right, as clean as if 
with a knife. The blood of poor Page was the first blood I saw ; he \vas 
knocked down in the grass, and as he endeavored to raise himself, he pre- 
sented such a ghastly spectacle that a sickly, fainting sensation came over 
me, and the memory of that sight I shall carry with me to my dying day. 
Corporal Howard was literally covered all over his back with the blood and 
brains of private Lee's head, and Lieutenant W'allen, who was near Page, 
had a tooth, either out of the head of Page or of Lee, driven clear through 
the back of his coat so that it pierced the skin ; he thought he was shot. 
A little later. Major Ringgold was mortally wounded, at his battery ; 1 saw 
him just after it. The shot had torn away a portioji of the fiesh of his 
thighs ; its force was tremendous, cutting off both his pistols at the locks, 
and also the withers of his horse — a splendid steed which was killed to 
relieve hint of his misery. The enemy tried hard, but without avail, to hit 
our eighteen-pounders. The battle continued until night put an end to the 
scene. We bivouacked where we were, and laid on our arms ; we slept, 
however, but little, thinking that we might be attacked in our sleep. 

During the battle, many were the remarks of the men upon its incidents; 
when the balls began to whistle over our heads, one who was not very 
bright sang out, '' I declare, I believe they are firing Oalls .' " This single 
speech produced an explosion of laughter, and, afterward, v.e teased the 
fellow so about it that he almost hated himself. I was much amused at the 
conduct of one of our men, by birth a Prussian, and from his .actions it was 
evident he had rather have been in Prussia than there. When a Ijall struck 
near him he made some of the most accomplished of bows ; one shot, in its 
■wicked fancy, knocked a Large mass of grius.s, with its roots and dust, plump 
into his face and bre.ast. Between the force of the sod and his fright, he 
went pitching backward into a small water-bole ; I thought he was gone 



444 ADVEXTUllES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

sure enough ; but presently he arose, pale and trembling, and when we 
saw he was unhurt, he wad the subject of a hearty laugh. An officer, near 
us, I noticed laboring under considerable excitement ; he was pale and 
covered with perspiration, which, however, did not indicate any want of 
bravery. A major iu the vicinity of our position, was a subject of contempt 
to the men ; he was evidently a sleepj', don't-care sort of a man, and had, it 
seemed to me, but a poor idea of military tactics. I believe he did not 
give or repeat a single order during the whole action ; for all the good he 
did there, he might as well have been in New Orleans. Men would prefer 
to see an officer do something — either act bravely or cowardi}' — this major 
did neither ; but sat on his horse in a perfectly listless manner, and had no 
control over his animal which followed along with the troops. I do not 
know what he might have done had the horse taken a notion to desert ; 
but of all the contemptible objects, he was the cap-sheaf — he had not eves 
the ambition to draw his sword ; there he sat, his hands swinging by his 
side, his eyes set, his mouth wide open, like a dolt. 

The enemy had been very severely handled, owing to the superiority of 
our artillery. The gunners went into it more like butchers than military 
men ; each man stripped off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and tied his sus- 
penders around his waist ; they all wore red flannel shirts, and, therefore, 
were in uniform. To see them limbering and uulimbering, iiring a few 
shots, then dashing through the smoke, and then to fire again with light- 
ning-like rapidity, partly hid from view by dense clouds of dust and smoke, 
with their dark-red shirts and naked arms, yelling at every shot they made, 
reminded me of a band of demons rather than of men. 

On the morning of the ninth, the sun rose in splendor. The enemy hav- 
ing retired into the chaparral, we resumed our march toward the fort. On 
arriving at the position the enemy had occupied the day before, the scene 
was shocking ; here lay a beautiful black horse and rider, both dead ; a little 
beyond was a heap of artillery-men horribly mangled, some entirely head- 
less, others with their bowels torn out, and again others with a leg or an 
arm, sometimes both, shot away. One man, I noticed, had been shot iu a 
singular manner ; the ball must have bounded, and, as it was rising, struck 
its victim about his right haunch, then piassing up diagonally through his 
body, came oxit under his left arm. The positions of the dead were in 
many instances peculiar ; some in their death-agonies had caught with their 
hand:i in the grass, and thus died ; some were in a kind of sitting posture : 
the countenances of some were horribly distorted, others had a smile — an 
absolute laugh. The enemy had left behind a part of their wounded ; one 
poor fellow who appeared to bo quite intelligent, was badly wounded in the 
ankle : when we came near him, he called out piteously, "Bueno Ameri- 
cano ! Agita, Senor ! agita, Seiior ! " — Good American ! Water, sir ! water, 
sir! We ran and offered him our canteens, and gave him biscuit, for which 
he appeared grateful. 

Our advance guard had'been through, and ascertained that the enemy 
were posted at Resaca de la Palma, a few miles off. A ravine here crossed 
the road, and on each side it was skirted with dense chaparral ; the ravine 
was occupied by their artillery. We marched on the narrow road through 
the chaparral toward their position. The battle commenced with those in 



OF AMERICANS. 445 

advance. The balls began to crash through the woods over our head.s, when 
our regiment deployed to the left and then to the right of the roaii, and .ad- 
vanced through the chaparral toward the enemy, whom we could not then 
see. Lieutenant Haller called out, ''Fourth and Fifth Infantry, charge!" 
Both regiments responded with a cheer, and rushed on. In a few paces wo 
came to a small pond, and here I h.ad my first chance for a shot at the 
Mexicans, who were in lino on the opposite bank, and were pouring their 
balls right into our faces. The bushes screened all below their waists. I 
kneeled down on my right knee, cocked my musket, and brought it to an 
aim on the mi-uss in front of me, making my first shot at the human family. 
I fired four shots in this manner, the brandies in the meanwhile dropping 
off and the dust springing up all about me from the shot of my friends 
across the little water. The word was then given to charge, and we d.ashed 
into the water which took me about half-thigh deep ; when in the middle, 
a ball just grazed my right ear, and another struck a lieutenant by me in 
the right arm. The Mexicans broke and ran, and we continued charging 
along the pond until we came to where their guns were stationed. Here 
our troops, of different regiments, got mixed up. The Mexicans fought 
desperately, and many were slain. 

When our infantry closed upon their artillery, some of our men were 
killed by shot from Duncan's battery, which remained on the east side of 
the ravine. The fight wa.s now confined to this central position ; their guns 
on the right and left of it having been taken, ilere stood General La 
Vega almost alone, his men having been shot dowu around him from the 
combined effects of our infantry on the right and left, and Duncan's battery 
in front. Just at this moment, when the infantry of all the regiments there 
engaged rushed in upon La Vega's position. Captain May charged with 
the dragoons who received the last gun tliat the enemy fired ; but before 
the dragoons had got up. La Vega was captured with a large number of the 
officers and men of the enemy. The dragoons charged clear past this point, 
and having received a heavy volley from the enemy's infantry and cavalry 
who were rallying beyond, May ordered a retreat. As he was returning, La 
Vega, already a prisoner and held as such by the infantry, judging that May 
was a superior officer, gave up his sword to him. Thus Captain M.ay got 
credit for what he never did, and thus drops into non-entity that grea'. story 
about May's charge, which in reality effected nothing. 

After those guns were captured, .about thirty of us went in pursuit of tho 
retreating enemy until wo came upon an open space of, perhaps, two acres ; 
here we found a large pack of mules and the abandoned tent of General 
Arista ; we stopped a moment, and tlieri continued on the road until wo 
were charged by the lancers. Lieutenant Hays sang out, "They are too 
strong for us, boys ! — retreat ! retreat ! " which we did for a short pace, and 
then faced the enemy. Tho lancers came down upon us, when we poured 
in a volley which sent them back. Lieutenant Cochrane, instead of coming 
on with us, ran behind a small clump of bushes on the ojiposite side of tho 
road, when a lancer rode up and deliberately lanced him. We reloaded, 
and on they camo again, headed by an officer mounted on a sjilendid whito 
hor.sc. Some one sang out, "Shoot that man on the whito horse!" Wo 
poured in another volley, and down went both horso and rider, besido 



4i6 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

numerous others ; among them was the man that had killed Lieutenant 
Cochrane. I wont out and picked up his lance ; it was covered with the 
blood of the poor lieutenant. At this moment came up our light artillery 
and the dragoons, who pursued the enemy to the river where many were 
drowned in crossing, and thus was ended the battle of Resaca de la 
Palma. 

When the battle was over, I never heard such shouting as came from our 
men ; they seemed nearly crazy with joy. I cannot describe my feelings 
when I saw what a victory we had won. The next day we camped at Fort 
Brown. We had left our knapsacks at the fort when we departed for Point 
Isabel, and now many of our articles were missing; some men found 
nothing, others not half of their things, and others mare than they had left. 
During the bombardment our knapsacks had been taken to help build 
bomb-proofs. I was at this time made sergeant. 

Preparations were made to cross the Rio Grande into the euemy's country. 
General Arista was in Matamoras, and we expected opposition to our land- 
ing. Our whole pontoon train consisted of one dilapidated old boat, and 
where that came from I know not. It would carry just one company, and 
ours was the one selected to cross first. On the morning of the 18th of 
May the embarkation commenced. When we struck the Mexican shore 
Captain Buchanan was the first man to set foot in Mexico, in the capacity 
of conqueror, and I myself was the second. As soon as we got out, the boat 
returned, and we posted ourselves in a cornfield, looking out for the enemy, 
who, however, unknown to us, were then on the full retreat for Monterey ; 
we, therefore, soon had quiet possession of Matamoras. 

This was the time that the enemy should have been followed up ; if our 
politicians at Washington had possessed genuine energy, they would have 
finished this war in half the time, and at less than half the expense of blood 
and treasure that were actually incurred. We had then no means to advance, 
and the enemy were given full leisure to recover from their stunning defeats 
ere we were ready to do so. 

While we were at Matamoras several men were sentenced, for various 
offenses, by court-martial, to have their heads shaved, be dishonorably dis- 
charged, and drummed out of camp. One of them had very light, muddy- 
colored hair ; ho was hired in the quarter-master's department, and after his 
hair again grew, it was of a beautiful auburn color. 

On the I7th of July we left for Comargo, one hundred and forty miles up 
the river, which was made one of the depots, and afterward became memo- 
rable for a new invention in the science of military engineering — the con- 
struction of a ditch inside of a breastwork. We lay there six weeks, wait- 
ing for reinforcements, and in the beginning of September continued our 
march for Monterey. 

We were badly off for means of trnsportation, owing to the. neglect of 
government, and were obliged to hire of our enemy. Sixte»,n hundred 
muleteers with their mules were obtained, who entered our service in oppo- 
sition to the commands of their government, which had forbidden any of 
their citizens from rendering aid and comfort to the "barbarians of the 
north." We were proceeding to the strongly fortified position of Monterey 
without any .siege train ; one solitary mortar was the only gun w» hi-d heavy 



OF AMERICANS. 44 ■j- 

enough for this jmrposc, when we should have had at least a dozen. Tha 
veriest booby in our army knew that governraeut was sadly neglectful 
of us. 

Beyond Mier the scenery grow bold, and on ascending a high ridge, a sol- 
dier exclaimed, " We are going to have a heavy storm ! — did you ever see 
such dark, heavy clouds ?" Above the western horizon appeared a heavy- 
mass of clouds, but I noticed a peculiar notch in those "clouds," which, as 
we advanced, did not alter in shape. In an hour more we saw that our 
clouds were mountains ; they were truly sublime, cutting their outlines 
against the clear sky, like huge masses of indigo. Althongh seeming in our 
vicinity, their nearest spur was more than seventy miles distant. 

This country from time immemorial had been infested with banditti, ,ind 
along our route were immense numbers of crosses, reared by the relations of 
murdered travelers, at the places where they had been slain. These crosses 
were usually of wood, about four feet in height, with inscriptions neatly c.irved 
upon them ; some were venerable from age, and covered with moss. Hero was 
one whose inscription portrayed the virtues and untimely fate of a promising 
young man ; there stood another to an aged father who, while on his way 
to visit an onl}' daughter, was met by ruffians, and not only robbed, but left 
with his snowy locks weltering in gore. Again, a cluster of crosses met tho 
eye, the inscriptions setting forth that a party — young men, old men, 
women, and children — while on their way to Matamoras to see their friends, 
were met by a band of savages and killed. Those artificial flowers, tacked 
to one of tha crosses, were for the little child that was murdered with its 
mother. At the foot of the crosses were heaps of small stones — in some 
c;ises, large piles — each stone being the ofiering of some passer-by as a token 
of respect. Bad as were those banditti, they never touched one of those 
memorials, but on our return from Monterey, out of hundreds, I did not see 
scarcely a dozen left; they had been used for fire-wood by our volunteers. 
Protestants generally have anything but a reverence for the cross. 

On a march a soldier is his own washer- woman, for which purpose soap is 
issued to the men. I got so jjracticed in keeping myself in gcsr, that I 
could march for any length of time without getting foot-sore. At every 
opportunity I bathed my feet and washed ray stockings in cold water, by 
which I prevented the accumulation of perspiration, and so did not have a 
single blister in all the way to Monterey. 

We halted at Marin two days. Various rumors were afloat as to the 
strength .and intentions of the enemy at Monterej' ; oiiinions were conflict- 
ing as to whether the Mexicans would m.ike a stand there. General Tay- 
lor, as the result proved, was misinformed upon all these matters; he did 
not expect the resist.ance he met with. I h.ad an opinion of my own, based 
upon indications I never knew to fail. When at Marin tho conduct of our 
muleteers suddenly changed ; I saw them talking to their countrymen, and 
I knew by their manner — the way they shrugged up their shoulders — 
t.juble was ahead. They, doubtless, ascertained the true st.ate of affairs, 
and did not want to go further, for they naturally supposed wo should bo 
beaten. From this I knew tho enemy were strong ahead. I asked an honest- 
faced old Mexican, at Marin, who seemed quite intelligent, whether or not 
"muclu) fandango, poco tiempof" — his answer was, "Si, senor ; mucho fan- 



44S ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

dango es Ja ultima en Monterey — -muclio miiertos ! " which was : there would 
be much fighting and many deaths. I never knew a Mexican to say tfiat 
there would be much fighting ahead, but his words were verified. Again, 
if fighting was in store for us, the people would be shy and look as if they 
despised ns ; when otherwise, the}' flocked around with things to sell, and 
acted in a confidential manner. 

We again took up our line of march, and as we neared Monterey, the 
volunteers were anxious " to see the elephant," and they crowded up at a 
hurried pace : but this anxiety was taken out of them in less than three 
days. These ambitious young men made considerable noise ; cheering 
when they saw some new object that indicated an enemj'. They even 
cheered as their general and staff-officers rode back and forth, and talked a 
great deal among themselves. Our men and oflJcers were much amused at 
their enthusiasm. We felt serious in view of the bloody work in store for 
us, as we know from experience, that the terrors of the battle-field were too 
awful a reality to be heedlesslj' entered into in the spirit of a grand frolic. 

On the 19th of September, we arrived in the outskirts of Monterey and 
camped at a place called Walnut Springs. The city is in the valley of San 
Juan, and around it rise the lofty ridges of the Sierra Madre. Its natural 
and artificial defenses were very strong. Two days previously, Taylor 
wrote to the war department: "It is even doubtful whether Ampudia will 
attempt to hold Monterey. His regular force is small — say, three thou- 
sami — eked out perhaps to six thousand by volunteers, many of them 
forced." The truth was, the garrison numbered about ten thousand, of 
whom seven thousand were regular troops ; so little did even General Tay- 
lor know of the facts in the case. The little array destined to attack thin 
strongly-fortified place was far inferior to the enemy. We had less than six 
thousand seven hundred in all, half of whom were volunteers. 

On the day succeeding our arrival, Sunday the 20th, Major Mansfield, 
of the engineers, made a reconnoisance of the enemy's works ; the exami- 
nation, for some unknown reason, appears not to have been sufficiently 
thorough. Greneral Worth was ordered to make a detour to the west end 
of the city, and act as circumstances should dictate. That night our regi- 
ment was ordered under arms, and thinking we should return to camp in a 
few hours, we went out without any provisions in our haversacks. We took 
up our position about eleven hundred yards from the Black Fort. Here we 
planted the ten-inch mortar and two twenty-four pound howitzers. No bed 
was made for the mortar, nor was any breastwork thrown up for the protec- 
tion of the guns ; for we had not a single entrenching tool. There stood 
those guns, exposed upon the open ground, to bombard a strong fort whose 
lightest gun was much superior, and whose heaviest was enough to knock 
ours to pieces. Some people may call this "military science;" to us, com- 
mon soldiers, it seemed a farce. 

Some time after daylight, our battery opened npon the fort ; we soon saw 
we wore too distant — especially the mortar, which might as well have been 
in Ilalifa.'C, for every shell fell far short. Some of the twenty-fours' shells 
got into the fort, but I thiidc they did not annoy the enemy much. In their 
reply they did not deign to notice the mortar, directing all their attention to 
the others. In about an hour a Mexican ball took off a leg from one of our 



OF AMERICANS. 449 

men above the knee ; ho died in a few minutes. Another struck and settled 
one of our ammunitiou boxes, and tliis was the sum of danugo to us. 

It was well known that when General Worth attacked the north part of 
the city, Taj'lor was to make a demonstration in his favor; that is, he was 
to make a false attack on the east end, so as to draw the attention of the 
enemy from Worth. By some " hocus- pocns" a real attack actually was 
Blade at the east end, and, as I think, many valuable lives thereby need- 
lessly thrown away. 

Well, about ten o'clock, Twiggs' division came down, took up a position, 
and got into trouble — it not being known there' were any batteries on the 
east side of the town. Garland advanced with his brigade near to the ene- 
my, when, suddenly, they poured in upon his men, from masked batteries, 
such a perfect sheet of iron that they quailed before it. By this time, 
Taylor and Twiggs were on the ground, and the former ordered down the 
whole force, thinking that "the charge" would do everj-thing. The result 
was that our troops got into dreadful confusion ; some were here, some 
there, volunteers and regulars all mixed up together — some lying about this 
fence, some in this ditch, and other.s behind that wall ; and for two or three 
hours wo were essentially ivhipped. Had the heavy body of lancers, that 
were hovering about, done their duty and came down upon us, we should 
have been all cleaned out to a certainty. A new vigor at length seemed to 
inspire our troops, and they rallied and carried a fort and an old still-house 
which had been fortified. Many valuable lives were thus foolishly lost ; the 
colonel of the Baltimore battalion was killed, and after that, they seemed 
completely panic-stricken. For a time that day, "confusion worse con- 
founded " reigned supreme ; oCBcers and all seemed to be laboring under 
some hallucination. Nobody knew what the orders were ; no officer gave 
orders to retreat or to advance, and things were in a most deplorable con- 
dition. General Taylor himself labored under intense excitement ; he came 
on the ground in the thickest of the storm, and gave orders to charge and 
carry the works. The men did charge, but it was murder. 

Finally, toward night, things began to assume a better face. Garland's 
brigade, to which our regiment belonged, was ordered to hold the captured 
works, and the rest of the troops were sent back to camp. In these works 
was an old sugar-house in which we found a quantity of sugar. At sun- 
down it came on to rain, and it rained profusely. That was one of the most 
miserable nights I ever passed. We had had nothing to oat since the even- 
ing before. We had been out all night, and had been fighting all day, nor 
was it iTUtil the next afternoon — making, in all, about forty-eight hours 
under arms — that we had even a morsel except some sugar that had been 
trampled under foot. 

The next day a. kind of skirmishing was kept up ; Taylor being content 
to act upon the defensive. Wo also buried many of our officers and men. 
I had escaped thus far without a scratch, although I had several very nar- 
row escapes ; many poor fellows I saw laid low all about me. On the even- 
ing of this day, Ampudia surrendered the town. Worth with his division 
had taken first the height above the Bishop's Palace, and then in turn the 
palace itself, when the guns of both were turned upon the town below, of 



450 ADVENTUKES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

which this was the key, and there was no alternative left but for the enemy 
to surrender. 

A few hours before the surrender, our regiment which held the captured 
works was relieved by a regiment of volunteers, and we were ordered into 
camp at Walnut Springs. As we were moving on to the Springs, we came 
under a flank fire of .sixteen-pounders and mortars throwing shells from 
Fort Independence. One of this latter class of customers came near drop- 
ping on my head. I heard it in the air, and glanced my eye up to view it, 
when, as I calculated, the gentleman was determined to scrape my acquaint- 
ance. I walked a few paces toward it, and when near, I dropped. With a 
"zMp!" it came down, and exploding as it struck, bespattered me with 
mud, as if in spite at having missed me. I arose and ran after the regiment, 
which had got some distance ahead. We soon entered a cornfield, and so 
accurate were the gunners of the distance wo traveled in a given time, that 
they sent their "pills" right among us at every discharge until we were nut 
of range. One of the balls caught a man of P company, and striking him 
about the haunches, cut him entirely in two, so that his body fell between 
his legs. Poor fellow ! he lived some ie\f minutes ; it was a horrible sight 
that mangled body lying in the dirt in the agonies of death. 

Arrived at the camp our first desire was for something to eat. The com- 
missary, being out of hard bread, issued to us flour. What could a soldier 
do witli flour V — and that, too, without lard, butter, or shortening of any 
kind. Necessity teaches. We mixed it with water in our mess-pans, and 
took our spades that we had used for all purposes, and baked the " dab " on 
them. It was a curious scene, that party of half-starved soldiers baking 
flour "dodgers" on their company spades. I finally had mine so that I 
could eat it, and — ! ye gods ! — I thought it the sweetest morsel I had ever 
eaten in my life. 

We remained some time at Monterey, and had much enjoyment there. 
The Mexican people are very fond of music and dancing, and our men took 
groat delight in attending their fandangoes ; the Mexican girls in this part 
of the country are generally handsome, and formed the principal attraction 
of those gatherings. 

Among the incidents while there, was the murder of Lieutenant Ritchie, 
of Cincinnati, which cast a gloom over all who knew him. He was at one 
time attached to our company, and was a promising officer, unassuming and 
modest. He had been sent on under an escort of dragoons, with dispatches 
to General Taylor, who had moved forward to Saltillo with part of the 
troops. At a ranche, called Villa Garra, half-way between the places, they 
stopped a few moments to water, while Ritchie, leaving word to his men, 
rode slowly forward. On turning a corner just out of sight of his party, a 
Mexican threw a " lariat" over his neck, dragged him from his horse, mur- 
dered him, took his dispatches, and started ofl" to Santa Anna. When his 
dragoons came up, there lay poor Ritchie, weltering in his blood, and his 
horse was nibbling the grass on the roadside. They in vain made an effort 
to overtake the assassin. It was evident Ritchie had been watched for sonic 
time by the Mexican, for the opportunity he finally found. The capture of 
tliose dispatches undoubtedly led to the battle of Buena Vista. 

In December, the tidings were received that a part of the forces were to 



OP AMERICANS. 451 

be sent to attack Vera Cruz, under General Scott, and from thence to pro- 
ceed against the capital of the country. Our men were anxious to go ; it 
was thought there would be warm work there; this, however, was not the 
reason — they wanted to see the country, and get under Scott. It was soon 
whispered that our regiment was to remain ; it was unfavorably received. 
Personally, I felt so down-hearted that I made up my mind, in that event, 
to change into the Third, so that I could go. About the 1st of January, 
we received the good news that our regiment was to be sent, and, better 
yet, that we were to be attached to the division under General Worth. Both 
Scott and Worth were the choice of the whole army. The common soldier 
is keenly alive to the qualities of his officers. It is remarkable how soon a 
soldier discovers the capacities of his general. Worth had the respect and 
love of his men ; they knew he would not needlessly sacrifice them, that 
if he gave an order to storm a battery, or perform any other perilous dutj-, 
it was just right, and they .sprang to obey with alacrity. There was one 
superior ofiScer we would liked to have got rid of, for he did so hate to ex- 
pose his precious person to the enemy's pills that we regarded him with 
profound contempt. Yet too many good things at once were not to be 
looked for. 

On our march down, we found the appearance of the country changed by 
the passage of so many troops. The stench from multitudes of dead mules 
on the roadside was intolerable ; every once in a while, as the breeze wafted 
the odors of a decaying carcass to us, some one would sing out, "There's 
another milestone !" Ere we reached the mouth of the Rio Grande, Lieu- 
tenant John H. Gore took command of our company ; he proved an excel- 
lent officer, a^d did justly by his men. Just before we took ship to sail for 
Lobos Island, the place of rendezvous of Scott's army, one of our men got 
brutally intoxicated, and annoyed us by his continual yelling. Gore ordered 
his legs to be tied together with a rope, and had him shoved into the break- 
ers ; the other end was held by two men, who drew him to and fro until I 
certainly thought the poor scamp would drown. Having ducked him suf- 
ficiently, he was released ; by which time he was sobered and effectually 
cured, for I never afterward knew hira to become drunk. 

When wo anchored at Lobos Island, on the 22d of February-, 1847, wo 
found General Scott on the steamer Massachusetts, awaiting the arrival of 
bis forces. A large number of volunteers were encamped on the island. 
When all was ready the whole fleet headed their prows for the famous 
castle of San Juan d'UlIoa. It was a beautiful sight that immense mimber 
of tall-masted vessels, with their snowy canvas spread to the breeze. How 
many a young man, the hope and support of a fond mother, was there, 
doomed miserably to perish and fill an unknown grave in a foreign land ! 
Our ships were tilled with vermin, and ere the voyage was half over we were 
completely covered ; no accommodations existed for washing either clothes 
or persons. 

On the 6th of March, wo anchored off Vera Cruz ; the next day we got 
the tidings, from an English vessel, of the battle of Buena Vista. The 
report was through the Mexicans, and to the effect tliat Santa Anna had had 
a battle with our volunteers under Taylor, and hail defeated him ; neverthe- 
less that the Mexicans had fallen back for some purpose not stated. The 
2i) 



452 ADVENTUllES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

concluding clause proveil to iis that " our boys " were the victors, and we 
gave three hearty cheers for " Old Zach." 

Our landing was effected on the 8th. Our division was the first to em- 
bark in the boats for the main laud ; when we were ready, Worth shouted 
in a loud voice, "By boats ! right wheel !" then, "Forward !" and again, 
"For the shore !" The sailors pulled heartily, and we sat with our armii 
in our hands ready for action ; as soon as we struck the beach, each regi- 
ment rallied around its flag in line of battle. This proved needless, as the 
expected opposition did not ensue. I never saw such a magnificent spec- 
tacle as that vast collection of boats with over five thousand men, moving 
in a regular semicircle toward the shore ; it was a sight worth a journej' of 
a thousand miles. When the sun rose next morning, it shone on twelve 
thousand men on that beach. 

Vera Cruz stands on the sea shore, and is inclosed by a wall ; from it a 
plain extends about a thousand yards, and then rise sandhills from ten to 
thirty feet in height, formed by the northers, which prevail in the spring 
and autumn. The tops of these hills are covered with scrubby thorn 
bushes ; the ravines with lime and other tropical trees. Our forces com- 
pletely invested the city ; Worth's right rested on the shore, and although 
it was throe miles distant, yet, on the day after our landing, a bomb-shell 
reached our camp. The landing of our guns, provisions, and munitions of 
war occupied several da^-s ; the be.ach presented a scene of life and anima- 
tion, onlj' when the northers prevailed, and then all had to seek shelter. 
While the sailors were attending to these duties, we soldiers were digging 
trenches and planting batteries. 

When we landed, and I stood upon one of those sandhills and saw tiie 
strength of the place, the immense distance at which the enemy th.'cvv their 
projectiles, and the wonderful weight of their metal, I despaired of our ever 
taking the place ; but science overcame all these difficulties. We had here 
the best military talent of our country ; we had General Scott and a splen- 
did corps of engineers, and, ere I was aware, the}' had worked their way 
down through the ravines and sandhills, and were laying out entrenchments 
within eight hundred yards of the city. The army was detailed by regi- 
ments to work and relieve each other in the trenches. There was no run- 
ning the gauntlet here in daylight ; each detail remained and worked in the 
trenches twenty-four hours. The reliefs always marched down after dark, 
when there was but little risk of being fired on in crossing the level plain 
between the camp and the trenches, and which was open to a raking firo 
alike from the castle and city batteries. All this heavy work in tho 
trenches had to be done at night. The first night our regiment was in the 
trenches, we had a sharp time. The engineers had got there first, and had 
stretched a rope along as our guide to work by. This was on the city side 
of the cemetery, where the ground was covered with the vegetation peculiar 
to this region. Here was an immense cactus, there a thicket of thorn 
bushes ; to the left a massy, broad-leafed, spongy plant with long sharp 
needles on the edges of the loaves; beside it a large sapling, which cert.ainly 
would cau.se us to alarm the enemy by our chopping ; everything bristled 
with thorns and needles, like a forest of spikes. We stuck our muskets 
by tho bayonets into the ground beside us, hung our jackets and belts ou 



OF AMERICANS. 453 

the butts, aud went at it, carefully at first, but soon were fully engaged chop- 
ping, knocking, and hauling away the brush. The use of a light was too 
perilous, the night was dark, and when one put forth his hand to take hold 
of a bush, it was sure to come in contact with a thorn or a needle, so that 
in a little while our hands were streaming with blood ; there wis no help 
for it, a soldiei''3 blood is at the call of his country. Either by the noise of 
our chopping or through their picket-s, the Mexicans got wind of our pro- 
ceedings, and in a little while they began to compliment us with specimens 
of their skill in gunnery. 

Suddenly the eastern sky was lit up by a luminous flask : " Look out, 
boys ! — shot ! here she comes ! " was shouted. 

The report and the shell came together; boom! luhiz J hloop ! and she 
struck in the cemetery beside us, throwing up a cloud of sand and dust. 

"Look out sharp, boys ! another from the castle — a Paixhau fellow this 
time !" 

1 heard it aud had just thrown m3'self behind a breastwork raised the 
night previous, when, smash, it struck into that very breastwork, exploding 
as it struck, and with a force that I thought would shake the whole place 
level. 

"Another, boys! from the city — thirtceu-inch shell !" which kindly ex- 
ploded in the air above, and the pieces went whiz! tvhiz! whiz! striking 
all about us. 

"Another, fellows ! — round shot from the city !" 

Along she came, waist-high, and passing between two of our muskets, 
nipped off a piece from one of our jackets. 

" Well, by zounds ! this is getting quite comfortable ! " 

"Another, boys, from the castle ! — Paixhan this time !" but it fell short, 
and in a little while the firing upon us ceased for the night. 

Having cleared off the brush, we took to the spades. The engineer came 
along and gave us our tasks ; each man was to dig a hole four feet long, five 
deep, and six. wide : that is to say, twenty men were to make a trench 
eight}' feet long of the above width aud depth. When ready, the engineer 
told us that just as each worked, just so much of a protection would each 
have, at least against the round shot, when daylight disclosed us to the 
enemj'. We went at it with a will ; the sand was as easy to excavate as an 
ash-heap. By three o'clock in the morning, where the enemy saw nothing 
before but a dense chaparral, was now a splendid trench, running, like a fine 
canal across the plain. It was beautiful to look upon, and the engineers 
wore mightily pleased ; they said we had done more work that night than 
they expected to have accomplished in two — that we were "good, brave 
bovs, and deserved well of our country." When the morning light exposed 
the long line of new earth to the view of the Mexican artillory-men, they 
pelted us awfully with round shot and shell; we lay snug and unharmed 
all day in our holes, and when night came were relieved. 

Such was the way those trenches were made and batteries planted. 
Magazines were also constructed of heavy planks and earth, with their 
doors from the direction of the city. Mule teams hauled down shells and 
shot during the night-time. The work of getting the heavy guns through 
the heavy sandhills to their respective positions, was very great; large de- 



4,54 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

tails of soldiers and sailors took liold of the ropes ; the sailors shouting iu 
their sea-phrases, the soldiers swearing and laughing, the heavy guns swing- 
ing and getting fast in the sand, the enemy now and then sending a thirty- 
two pound pill, whose screaming and gyrations through the sand and chap- 
arral, all united to make a scene to be remembered. 

One night, after having been greatly fatigued by hard work, I rolled my- 
Kelf up in my blanket, and fell into a refreshing sleep; in a few hours a 
norther came on and roused me by the flapping and shaking of my tent : I 
turned over and went off again until reveille. When I awoke, I felt a 
heavy weight upon me ; on throwing off my blanket from my head, a peck 
of sand poured into my face, filling nay eyes, nose, ears, neck, etc. The 
drifting sand had come into my tent and covered me over like a mass of 
snow. On going out, the scene was dreadful ; the air was darkened bj- the 
fine sand, and everything was covered with it. Many of the tents had been 
blown down, the sea was lashed into fury, and the men looked miserably. 
The cook had the greatest difficulty in making us any coffee ; as for the 
pork, it was full of sand. Not a bite of anything could we take, but our 
teeth would grate on sand — everything partook of a gritty nature ; sand 
was here, there, and everywhere : everybody had sore eyes, our clothes 
were full of sand, a man's shirt felt like drawing a bag of gravel over 
his back, and his boots seemed as if they contained a "perch of stone." A 
few. hours' exposure of a sleeping man to one of those northers, would bury 
him so deeply as to be beyond all hope of a living resurrection. The fact 
was, sand and thorns were trumps with us all the time at Vera Cruz. 

We could not wash on board the ships, nor for days after our lauding had 
we the time ; our per.sons and clothes got into a most healthy and lively 
condition : our bodies formed the worlds for multitudes of those little beings 
who carried out the injunction to " increase and multiply," with such unction 
that they became great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers iu less than 
twenty-four hours. Why they were created I know not, except it be to 
punish people for filthiness. It was not until near the close of the siege 
that we had an opportunity of dispossessing these non-paying tenants. 

One evening our company was sent out as a guard of observation, and 
took position behind a low cactus-covered .sandhill. At ten o'clock next 
day one of our men in moving about, exposed our position to the enemy ; 
we were in point-blank range of all their batteries, from which they poured 
in upon us a tremendous storm of heavy shot. I never passed such a day. 
We had to lie close to the ground, and the shot then nearly grazed our 
heads. The cactus was knocked all to pieces, and the top of the hill was 
iis effectually cut up as if a plow had passed over it. Night came on and 
relieved us without the loss of a single man. Dreadful was that storm ; it 
was surprising we were not all knocked to pieces. There was some lovely 
embracing of mother earth that day, and if I had possessed the nature of a 
ground-hog, I should certainly have employed myself differently from what 
I did. 

Thus we proceeded, making trenches, planting batteries, and getting ready 
to answer the enemy at their own game. General Scott had his marquee 
pitched to the right and rear of our encampment. It was evident we had a 



OF AMEUICANS. 455 

master-miiul in the field, and that an application of science was being made, 
instead of an entire reliance upon the baj-onet. 

By the 25th of March, all the batteries were in full play upon Vera Cruz. 
The roar of our artillery, and the fall of shells and shot was heard all 
through its streets. I was afterward told by an Englishman that the scene 
was dreadful ; ho showed me a house in which a family was eating supper, 
when a shell fell through the roof, and, bursting in the room, killed the 
whole of them ; and an old negro said to me, "Ah ! mister! dat was awful 
time dar, do shells bustiu' and blowin' eberyting to pieces." I need not ro- 
coimt any farther these scenes, for abler pens than mine have portrayed 
them. 

The surrender was an imposing sight ; the soldiers and sailors stood iu 
one line and the volunteers in another. We were ordered to appear in the 
best possible manner, cleanly shaved, with our arms, belts, and accouterments 
polished and whitened up ; we wore the extra suit which a soldier always 
has by him, and when we marched out to parade, each man looked as if just 
out of a bandbox. Worth was well pleased, for he loved a proud soldier. 
The sailors were dressed in their w-hite pants, blue coats, and shirts with 
the blue collar, and took our right. The volunteers appeared dingy and 
dirty, somo with long beards, others with one pant-leg in their boots ; the 
contrast was great. They wondered how we could make such a neat ap- 
pearance ; it was our business to be soldiers, and we lived under a strict 
discipline which provided for such emergencies. The Mexicans, as they 
marched out, loobed heart-broken — some were fine-looking men; they 
Stacked their arms and then hurried away to the interior, and were soon out 
of sight. When General Scott took possession he obtained au immense 
amount of the material of war ; he issued orders to prevent the commission 
of crimes against the jieople, and no army ever conducted with such 
humanity toward a conquered people as ours in Mexico. The only crime 
of moment committed at Vera Cruz was by a free negro from South Caro- 
lina, who, having violated a countrywoman as she was coming into the city 
with some marketing, was tried by a military commission and huTjg. lie 
met his fate with the coolest unconcern. 

Our army was now preparing for an advance into the heart of Mexico. 
Quantities of ammunition, provisions, cannon, and arms arc to be carried, 
yet the wagons, horses, and mules, which are to do this service, have not 
arrived. They are now perhaps descending the Mississippi, and will soon 
be here; at length, one by one, dozen by dozen, they arrive. On the Sth 
of April, Twiggs with his division takes the road to Jalapa ; on the 13lh, 
our division follows. By orders we took on with us only what was abso- 
lutely -neccjsary ; all our spare clothing we packed and left beliind, snugly 
stowed away. In our absence the volunteers got at our goods, and stolo 
everything that the regular army had left — tents, uniforms, private clothing 
and all. 

General Twiggs had advanced to a place called Plan del Rio, and, at 
Corro Gordo, a mountain gorge beyond, found Santa Anna witli seventeen 
thousand men, in a strongly-fortified position, awaiting the attack of the 
Americans. Twigg.s, having made a roconnoissance, resolved to attack ; 
thinking perhaps to make a name, he was about to practice General Tay 



456 ADVEXTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

lor's method of fighting, and therob\- very likely would have been defeated 
with great slaughter. General Patterson comiug up at this juncture, he did 
not attack. When Scott arrived he adopted an entirely different plan ; he 
was not an officer to plunge in headlong, get his men into trouble, and then, 
not knowing how to extricate them, do nothing but stand and swagger about, 
and let fly a volley of oaths. 

Our division reached the National Bridge on the 15th, and remained there 
until the next evening, when we were ordered up to Plan del Piio, sixteen 
miles beyond ; somehow we men understood we were to go only three or 
four miles that night, so we neglected filling our canteens with water. We 
marched on several miles, e.ipecting every moment to be ordered to en- 
camp ; dense chajiarral lined the roadside, and on we jogged ; all that could 
be heard was an occasional growl from some sore-footed and tired soldier, 
the continual dinl; clink of our tin cups, and the heavy tramp of many feet. 
I became so fatigued that I thought it impossible to go farther, but 1 kept 
on with my eyes partly shut, asleep. When we had gone a dozen miles — it 
seemed to me thirty — it was reported that the lancers were hovering around, 
and the officers warned the men not to fall out of the ratd;s or they would 
be murdered. Finally we halted for a few moments when Smith, of our 
compan}', and myself threw ourselves behind some bushes on the roadside 
to rest until the troops should start on. No sooner were we down than, 
contrary to our intention, we fell asleep; nature was exhausted. How long 
we slept 1 know not. Suddenly I started up, wide anake, and listened; 
all was still save the loud breathing of my companion. The lancers ! the 
lancers ! struck my mind. 

" Smith ! Smith ! " said I, " up ! " 

lie was awake in a moment. 

" Smith, we 're left behind, as sure as fate ! " 

" Good heavens ! " exclaimed he, in a suppressed voice, which showed his 
vivid sense of our peril ; "let us arouse and go after the troops." 

" Certainly," I rejoined. 

We caught up our knapsacks and muskets, and sprang into the road, at 
first puzzled to know which way to go. We recollected we had lain down 
on the left; side of the road, and .so started on ; in half a mile we came to 
our men asleep, and a little beyond was the river at the base of Cerro 
Gordo. When day broke, it presented to us one of the wildest of scenes, 
rough and mountainous. Here we found Patterson's and part of Twiggs' 
division. That afternoon, Twiggs had a smart skirmish with the enemy, 
and carried a lower hill south of Cerro Gordo, the main hill, where ouv 
i-jldiers planted some guns in the night. 

Upon the particulars of the battle which ensued the next day, I need not 
dwell. It is well known that the enemy were most thoroughly defeated, 
and exactly in accordance with the previous dispositions of our general. As 
we were ascending the hill called by the Mexicans Telegrafo, we came 
across General Scott; how he got there wo could not tell. As the men 
passed him they all cheered ; he looked as mild and pleasant as if on a 
pleasure excur.sion. On the top of the hill the scene presented all the hor- 
rors of the battle-field — dead and dying men all about. Worth ordered tha 
captured guns to be turned on the enemy, who hoisted a white flag. 



OF AMERICAXS. 457 

"Never mind the fla^," said he, "lire a few shots ary way !" which was 
done, and then he ordered them to cease. Among tlie dead I saw liere was 
General Vasquez, a fine-looliing man, who fell with his face to the foe ; a 
little stream of blood was oozing from a shot-hole in his head. One soldier 
lay near him w-ith the top part of his head blown off; the skull had been 
struck on the back part and cut straight across above the ears, and in that 
shajjc thrown over where it still liung by the skin of the forehead like a 
hinge. One Mexican was iu a singular position ; it was evident that at the 
last moment he had seen something which pleased him, and had turned 
around with his back to hi.s own breastwork, when a ball passed through 
his head from behind; he thereupon had sunk into a sitting-posture with 
the smile yet on his face and his musket resting on his arm ; he appeared as 
if yet alive and laughing. 

On the lOth, wc look up our line of march for Jalapa. All along the 
road were evidences of the pursuit of the flying Mexicans by llarncy's dra- 
goons ; it was strewn with the dead and dying. Heaps of the dead lay 
upon the ground with their skulls literally split open by the sabers of our 
horsemen. We were evidently entering a better country, fine fields of grain 
were springing up all around, coffee was seen growing, and the foliage was 
of a dark, heavy green. That night we bivouacked near Jalapa, and on 
elevated ground. Sunrise opened to us one of the finest of views ; toward 
Vera Cruz, in the lowlands, it was cloudy and doubtless raining. The 
clouds were beneath our feet, and as the deep thunder rolled and reverbe- 
rated through the valleys, we could see the lightning dart up out of heavy 
baidis of mist whose tops were white iu the sun's rays. To the left w.^s old 
Orizaba, topped with perpetual snow. Our officers and men stood enchanted 
with the view. This was not all : there, to the west, right back of Jalapa, 
arose stupendous mountains piled on mountains until the tops seemed to 
])ierce the skies ; over these lay our road to Me.\ico. 

Worth's division did not stop in Jalapa, but was ordered on to Perote. 
Ill a few miles we struck the mountains and entered the wild and gloomy 
pass of La lloya, called by our men the Black Pass. On the 22d, we 
reached the famous Castle of Perote, and were shown the room iu which 
the Mier prisoners were confined. Captain Samuel 11. Walker, of the Te.xan 
Hangers, was one of those prisoners. It is said, that having assisted with 
others in some repairs around the flag-stall", he dropped in a crevice a five 
cent piece, saying as he did it, that the d.iy would arrive when he should 
have the authority to take it out. As, during the time wo were iu Mexico, 
he was appointed commander of the castle, I presume he recovered his 
sixpence. 

At Perote our brigade separated from the other part of Worth's division, 
and advanced eighteen miles to Tepeyahauloo ; we there quartered in a 
mule yard, and I took up my berth iu one of the troughs. On the 10th of 
May, -we marched for Puebla, aud on the first day saw the singular effects 
of the mirage ; it made the distant landscape look like a lake of water. Our 
persons were reflected in the distance to a gigantic size, auil our horses to 
the proportions of elephants. We crossed wide tracts of barren sand aud 
met with large quantities of pumice-slone ; the mountains were bare and 
destitute of vegetation. At a mountain pass, " Kl Pinal," the enemy had 



458 ADVENTURES AND ACtllEVEMENTS 

fispd large rocks to roll upon us, but when we came along, they were not 
there to roll them. Ou the fourth day from Perote we reached Amazoque, 
seven miles from the famous City of Puebla ; we could discern the cupolas 
of the cathedrals with their shining and variegated tiles. 

Just before reaching Amazoque the road rises up on a high plateau ascend- 
ing which a most gorgeous panorama burst upon our view ; away toward 
the west arose those famous snow-capped mountains, Popocatapetl and Iz- 
tac-cithuatl, rearing their white heads far into the atmosphere. Between us 
and those mountains stretched away the Valley of Puebla, dotted here and 
there with the white houses of villages and haciendas ; and there in the cen- 
ter stood the large, beautiful City of Puebla de los Angelos — City of the 
Angels. The country around was fertile and prolific in everything for the 
comfort of man. 

Ou entering Amazoque the villagers greeted us kindly ; the ladies, good- 
hearted souls, ran and brought huge pitchers of water, and standing in the 
doors of their humble dwellings, oflered us the sparkling liquid with pleas- 
ant words and smiling countenances. Feeling certain from the n^anner of 
the people, that our entrance into Puebla would be unopposed. Worth 
ordered us to clean up and put things in order, so tnat we might make a 
good appearance on the occasion. Our regiment went into a large fenced 
yard to clean up after our long and dusty march. Some went to work tak- 
ing apart their muskets and cleaning them ; others got out their whitening 
and were rubbing up their belts ; still others were overhauling their knap- 
sacks, and taking out and mending their extra suit ; again, others were 
shaving themselves — so that the appearance of the troops was as if they 
were in quarters in some part of the United States : no one dreamed of an 
enemy being near. It seems, however, that something must have revealed 
our sit'.iation to the Mexicans : suddenly the exclamations burst forth : 

" Hark ! what is that ? It 's the long roll. By heavens ! we are attacked ! " 

The scene that transpired cannot be described ; our confusion was most 
complete — men grasping their muskets, that lay all apart, and nervously at- 
tempting to put them together, others hurrying on their accouterments, etc. 
Notwithstanding our defenseless and dangerous condition, it was an ex- 
tremelj' ludicrous spectacle to us when we began to fall into line — some 
were half-shaven — some had on their jackets wrong-side out — others with 
the cartridge-box on the wrong side. While the confusion was at its height, 
a man at the gate shouted out, " The lancers are just upon us !" I looked 
toward the city and saw an immense cloud of dust arising. While all this 
was transpiring, our light artillery ran out, and, by a few well-directed shots, 
sent the cowardly rascals galloping back. The result of this affair was that 
we looked woise next morning than usual. 

The next day we entered Puebla ; as we passed along the streets, we found 
them crowded with thousands of people anxious to get a sight of those 
men that had always proved victorious over their choicest troops. The 
balconies of fine tall houses were densely thronged with beautiful women who 
waved their handkerchiefs at us as we advanced. Our men were astonished 
at the splendor and apparent opulence of the city. We presented a most 
miserable appearance to the people ; we were worn down by our long march, 
covered with dust and dirt, and from fatigue and sickness, our faces wore a 



OP AMERICANS. 459 

haggard look. The Puebloso htid expected to see something splendid in 
the ;ispect of that army that had proved itself so iuvinoible ; great was their 
iistouishment at beholding a collection of ill-dressed, poor, dirty, and sicl;ly- 
looljing men. 

Kear Puebia, .ire the ancient ruins of Cholula, a city of the Tlascalans, 
which ill the time of Cortes contained two hundred thousand souls .and four 
hundred temples to idols. The famous pyramid of Cholula still marks the 
spot; it is the most remarkable of all the ruins of the Aztecs. Its base 
covers the space of a quarter of a mile, aud it rises to the height of one 
hundred and seventy-seven feet. 

I'uebla is a beautiful city of eighty thousand inhabitants ; its streets are 
broad and lined with many elegant buildings. We were much pleased with 
the people, and, for my part, I had the good luck to ingratiate myself iu 
tlie affections of the familj- of an old Spaniard, consisting of himself, wife, 
and two agreeable young daughters, with whom I passed many pleasant 
liours. 

JJear our quarters in Puebia was an ancient church bearing the date 1628 ; 
in its thick walls w-ere niches in which, according to the custom of tho 
country, bodies of children had been depjosited after death. While in tliis 
city ver^' many of the troops died of the dysenterj', brought on by the jioor 
food and change of climate. The stoutest men were the first to sinlc, and 
the volunteers suffered far more than the regulars, piarticularly those from 
the Southern States. The New York and South Carolina regiments were 
quartered opposite each other; the latter lost a dozen men to the other's 
one, and so it was all through tho army. 

On our arrival at Puebia, our army had been reduced, by the expirations 
of enlistments and other causes, to less than five thousand men, aud thus 
General Scott was obliged to await there several months for reinforcements. 
Had government promptly supplied him with troops we could have marched 
on immediately after the battle of Cerro Gordo, and in a very little while 
have reached the City of Mexico. The enemj', dispirited by defeat, would 
have made but feeble resistance to our arms ; but the delay gave ample time 
for Santa Anna to recover. from the shock, to recruit his array, and to fortify 
the approaches to the city. Thousands of valuable lives were lost by tho 
dilatory movements and the want of energy on the j>art of our government. 

Early in August, the army under Scott, liaving receiveil the expected re- 
inforcements, marched out of Puebia in four divisions, numbering in all ton 
thousand seven hundred aiu. thirty-eight men. About three thousand men, 
under Colonel Childs, were left iit Puebia; most of these were in tlie lios- 
pitals, over seven hundred of whom died iu that city. 

Our division left Puebia on tho 8th of August ; many of tiie citizens wlio liad 
bosnie acquainted with us assembled to see us start. Our course was throiigli 
a beautiful rolling country, dotted with orchards and fruit-gardens ; tlie roail 
was ascending and crossed, before entering the City of Mexico, the Anahuac 
range of the Cordilleras, the most m.aguificent portion of that chain of moun- 
tains wliich extends from Cape Horn to the Arctics. The lofty mountains, 
white with eternal snows, chilled the air at the distance of thirty mile.s. 
On the third day we reached Rio Frio, or Cold River, the highest point on 
the road — ten thousand one hundred and twenty feet above the Gulf of 



460 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Mexico — forty-eight miles from Piiebla and forty-five from the City of 
Mexico. The scenery was glorious ; at every turn in the road seme new 
object of grandeur burst upou us calling forth exclamations of delight. Sol- 
diers generally seem to be almost entirely insensible to such things and to 
all the finer emotions of the human heart, but such is not the case ; it is 
owing to the nature of military discipline that the soldier acquires a taciturn 
habit; thinking, however, even in all despotisms, is free. 

The succeeding night the cold was intense ; soon after bivouacking, a cold 
rain came on, which put out our fires and wet us through, and before morn- 
ing my clothes had frozen stiff with icicles depending therefrom. The fol- 
lowing forenoon we came in view of the beautiful Valley of Mexico. The 
air in those elevated regions is so very clear as to reduce the apparent dis- 
tance of objects fully one-half; the City of Mexico, thirty-five miles beyond 
us, was visible — a little speck in the valley. I heard no extravagant excla- 
mations at the beauty of the scenery : but one, made on a different subject, 
I well recollect. Our regiment happened to be in the advance, and General 
Worth and his staff were near us ; as we were descending, iu the .afternoon, 
into the valley, marching in platoons, the rays of the declining sun striking 
the mass of bright arms presented a beautiful appearance. Wor*h observed 
it, and turning to his staff, exclaimed : 

" Gentlemen, look at that ! just look at that ! Is not that enough to cheer 
the heart of any man ?" 

Worth was proud of his men and ambitious. This day's march was a 
long one ; we overtook Twiggs' division at the edge of the valley, at the 
village of Ayotla, At this point, which was on the main road to the city, 
we turned oft" to the left aud took post at Chalco, on the lake of the same 
name. The City of Mexico is approached only by causeways. Santa Anna, 
supposing that our army would take the main road, had more strongly for- 
tified the approaches to the city by it ; the strongest was the fortress El 
Penon, which completely commanded the road. It mounted fifty-one guns 
of the heaviest caliber, and was surrounded by a broad .and deep ditch. On 
reconnoitering this position, General Scott saw that it was impossible to tcake 
it, except at an immense loss of life ; he, therefore, out a new road to the 
left, around the western margins of the lakes, Chalco and Xochimilco, which 
struck the Acapulco ro.ad at the village of San Augustine. On the Acapulco 
road the prominent fortifications to be overcome were, 1. The Hill of CON- 
TBEKAS, thoroughly armed with batteries and breastworks. 2. The Bridge 
of Chukubtjsco, a teta du pont at the crossing of a canal, armed also with 
cannon. 3. Nearer the city, the Hill of CHAPCLTErBC, on which was the 
military college. The r.anchc of S.an Antonio, and other points on the road 
were likewise fortified with batteries. Aside from these, the city itself was 
surrounded by a wall and ditches, with sm.all forts at each of the gates 
bristling with cannon. Having overcome the various obstacles on our new 
route, our division reached San Augustine, on the Acapulco road, much to 
the surprise of its inhjibitants who had not expected us in this direction. 
We knew that hard fighting w.as now close at hand ; the people were shy of 
us, and their manner indicated that they considered us already .about as good 
as whipped. 

The next day, the 18th, our division marched out on the road toward 



OF AMERICANS. 461 

the city. In a little more than a mile we strucl; the peJregal (volcanic 
rock), and neared the strongly-fortified rancho of San Anloiiia ; wo expected 
every moment to go into battle. Captain Thornton with his company had 
dashed ahead to reconnoitar, when, boom ! boom! struck our ears. Now we 
have it, boys ! and as the sound echoed through the valleys, I saw a deathly 
paleness come over the faces of the men. I looked on purpose to see the 
efl'ect it was having on others, for I felt bad myself and wished to know 
if they appeared as I knew I felt. It was the same with the oflicers, for 
war is no respecter of persons, and death is terrible. But what is this com- 
ing ? It is Captain Thornton's horse ! The saddle was all over blood. One 
of the two shots we just heard, bad struck the poor captain and cut him 
in two. 

We moved on, and that night our brigade took up quarters in a huge 
stone barn. The enemy had a twenty-four pounder in their works at San 
Antonio and battered our hotel with great industry, but little effect. Here 
we lay inactive, awaiting, as it was understood, for some of the other divi- 
sions to make a demonstration to the left of the pedregal on the heights of 
Contreras, where General Valencia, with six thousand troops, " the flower of 
the Mexican army," was strongly intrenched. During the 19th, it was fair 
weather all day. As our division of the army was not in those operations 
before Contreras, I will only give the facts that fell under my own observa- 
tion at the time. 

About four o'clock in the afternoon of that day (the 19th), we heard a 
sharp firing in the direction of Contreras, three miles in a right line from us 
across the pedregal, and five by the road. Clouds of smoke were discerned, 
and as no one came to us, we began to be suspicious that matters were not 
going on well. We knew the position of the Mexicans from the more dense 
masses of smoke and from the louder reports of their artillery — their guns 
being the heaviest ; we also noticed the fact that when night came on, our 
people were no nearer the position of the enemy than when they began. 

About dusk, word came to our officers, but nothing to us : this was omi- 
nous. Again, the officers stood by themselves, talked low, and suddeidy 
Lad very long countenances. If any of us moved within hearing distance 
they instantly ceased talking. After awhile I got a chance to see Lieuten- 
ant Gore, commander of our company. He was standing by himself and I 
went up, salute<l, and said : 

"Lieutenant, I w-ish, if you would please inform me, to know how it goes 
with our side over there this evening : I fear it is not all right ?" 

"Keep quiet, sergeant!" rejoined he, "and if you won't say anything to 
the men about it, I'll tell you. The Mexicans are very strongly intrenched 
over there in the valley, and General Scott ordered that point to be attacked 
tlis afternoon, not supposing the enemy wore so strong as they really are. 
Our men had bad luck — they attacked and had to abandon their position. 
The fact is, sergeant," continued Gore, speaking very low, "our fellows are 
tehipjml, and we all feel very bad about it; but it is the intention to do 
something to-night, and perhaps wo will be called upon." 

"Not whipped !" said I. 

"No, not exaclhj wdiipped," rejoined Gore; "but you know, sergeant, 
when we attack a place and don't take it, we might as loell be whipped." 



4C2 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

He then, again, requested me not to tell the men, as it would make a bad 
impression. When I returned, my oompanions flocked around to ascertain 
what Gore had told me. I, however, "knew nothing" and said "be 
quiet," all of which they fully understood. 

In the course of an hour, when the men had mostl}' fallen asleep, and the 
non-commissioned officers were together, I revealed the whole to them. 
We sat there for hours discussing the matter, and finally concluded that, 
although hard work was in store for us, Scott was certain to take the city. 
One by one, we fell asleep. I dropj)ed into a dreamy doze, my mind 
actively engaged with the scenes around us — yet my thoughts would often 
be far away with home and loved ones in Ohio. Suddenly I would arouse, 
aud the startling fact come upon me, in all its dreadful reality, that I was 
far, far away in an enemy's country. Thus the thoughts, continually active, 
kept flitting about, like some nervous unsteadj- spirit that could never find 
a resting-place. So the hours passed on, and in the meanwhile it began to 
rain. The dripping of the eaves fell at the great doors, and the drops pat- 
tered on the roof and leaves with a melancholy sound. "To-morrow," 
thought I, "may be my last day on earth !" A sense of fear, of extreme 
reluctance to go in where Death was claiming his victims oppressed me, 
and then I would shake it off and resolve to go where duty called. I felt I 
was not the only one that might be sacrificed, aud if I was doomed to die, 
I should be remembered b}' a grateful country. 

Two hours past midnight, I heard the gallop of a horse approaching. 
The rider passed around the barn and by the door, and kept on to our colo- 
nel's marquee. It was an aid-de-camp with orders. He dismounted and 
went in, and I then overheard voices there. A few minutes elapsed when 
in came our adjutant and called out : 

"Men ! men ! wake up ! wake up ! arouse up, all hands ! First sergeants, 
parade your men and call the roll immediately ! " 

This was the morning of the 20th of August, 1847, and ere the sun went 
down five distinct actions were fought with the Mexicans, and five victories 
won by American valor. These were : 1. The storm of Contreras. 2. The 
capture of San Antonio. 3. The storm of the tete-du-pont. 4. The battle 
smd assault of the church and outworks of Churubusco. 5. The action in 
the rear of Ohurubusco with the right wing of Santa Anna's corps. These 
last three were parts of one drama, but distinct in the skill, the action, and 
the relative effects. Ten batteries, mounting sixty-one guns, had been car- 
ried and the causeway laid open to the very gates of the city. The Mexi- 
cans numbered thirty thousand men, and their strength was doubled by 
their being in fortified positions. The Americans had nine thousand men 
only engaged. Seldom have such great results with such inferior means 
been attained in war. But to return. 

In thirty minutes the whole brigade was ou the march — whitlier we knew 
not ; we only knew we were moving in the direction of San Augustine. The 
night was dark, the rain was pouring, the road was slippery with mud, and 
we were marching, half-asleep aud burdened with our knapsacks. We had 
started off too without our coSee, and felt weak and miserable, for nothing 
is more trying to soldiers than to be called on duty from out of a sound 
sleep without their morning coffee. For davs we had had nothing to eat but 



OP AMERICANS. 4G3 

liard bread and our coffee, as wo could catch time to make it. For my 

part, I felt in anything but a pleasant mood. Old Major took occasion 

to get drunk that morning. He must have begun to pour down the liquor 
as soon as he heard the order to march, for we had not gone more than two 
or three miles before he was "good ;" and then he thought the whole bri- 
gade was drunk, and " wondered where they got their liquor \" It was easy 
to tell where ho got his, for he always had a demijohn in the baggage- 
wagon : a soldier's knapsack would at any time be " chuokud " into the road 
to make room for his jugs. 

We had marched some four miles from the barn when daybreak came 
on. The clouds rolled away, and we discerned all around us evidences of 
the previous day's work. Soon after, the rattling fire of musketry was 
heard in advance of us, and then the heavy booming of the artillery. Tho 
officers endeavored to urge us on at double quick time. It was impossiblo 
to move fast in the slippery state of the road, burdened as we were by our 
heavy knapsacks, and having had nothing to eat that morning but dry bread. 
The fighting ahead was the battle of Contreras, which lasted only twenty 
minutes. The enemy had been surprised, were driven from their guns, and 
in their flight were pursued with great slaughter. It was a happy termina- 
tion to the unfortunate prelude of the day before, and inspired us all with 
enthusiasm, although we were too late to join in the action. 

Worth, who had gone ahead, at this juncture returned to lead us on to 
the attack of San Antonio, lie came galloping up at full speed, his horso 
in a foam, and his countenance full of animation. lie was very angry at 
.seeing us with our knapsacks contrary to his orders, and severely repri- 
manded the colonel, whose fault it was. 

"My men," said he, "instead of being fresh for a hard day's fight, aru 
broken down already. Countermarch, sir, as soon as possible to our old po- 
sition, and await fresh orders to advance on the enemy ! Leave the knap- 
sacks there, and let tho men rest a few minutes, sir !" 

The oflicer turned pale at the reprimand, and as all this was said in the 
presence of the men, they gave Worth one spontaneous, ringing cheer. 

When we were ordered to advance, our regiment struck into a cornfield 
intersected with ditches. We had marched some nine miles that morning, 
and under such circumstances that, when we entered that cornfield, I was 
in a state of desperation. My senses were in a measure blunted. I was 
savage and would have fought, and finally did fight, like a fury incarnate, 
completely reckless of consequences. It seemed to me then that the only 
friend I had in the world was my musket. All the men more or less felt 
iis I did. We floundered through the mud, which was deep and sticky in 
the cornfield, as well as we could. The ditches, which were four feet wide 
and three deep, delayed us in our advance. Several men tumbled into 
them in their attempts to cross. Our drunken major had to be helped over, 
fjr he was top-heavy from liquor and bottom-lieavy from fat. We longed 
to see him tumble into one of the deepest, for he was desjnsed by the men. 
We came in a few minutes to a place where I could, by stooping down, seo 
tho Mexican breastworks between the rows of corn. We crept on in a 
stooping posture, wondering wo were not discovered and fired on. "Oh !" 
thought I, " you are reserving your fire until we get close to you. Very 



46i ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

well, you will liave only one clianoc at us, for while you are reloading, those 
of us that are left will rush ou and drive you out." 

On we go — we get close to the wall — our hearts beat quickly in momen- 
tary expectation of the awful sheet of flame that will flash in our faces. 
Here we are, right at the breastwork ; we shout and rush in with our mus- 
kets firmly grasped, and at a charge and cocked : a hundred fingers press 
nervously on as many triggers, ready to send death broadcast among our 
enemy. At this exciting moment wo find nothing but deserted forti- 
fications. 

Where are the enemy ? they had retreated and were on the full run 
toward the city. We rushed on in hot pursuit, and struck the road and 
entered the village of San Antonio, where we met the rest of our brigade. 
Clarke's brigade had made a circuit across the pedregal, and intercepted 
the retreat of the Mexicans, cutting them up dreadfully. Their route was 
strewn with all sorts of arms and with the wounded and the dying. Many 
were calling for ".agua" — water. Amid the confusion, several Mexican 
women were running about crying and carrying large bundles of their house- 
hold goods : some with children in their arms, and others with them straji- 
ped to their backs in squaw fashion. 

It was here reported to Worth that some of our camp-followers were 
plundering the church. He ordered them to be seized, tied up, and given 
thirty-nine lashes apiece. Those fellows were gamblers from the States, 
who had followed the army from mercenary motives. Ten of these gentle- 
men were flogged at this time, and with an unction : our soldiers bore them 
EO good will, for they had robbed and plundered theni at every chance. 

When the enemy were driven out of San Antonio they took up a new 
position at Churubusco, where they were immediately attacked by the divir 
sions of Twiggs and Pillow. Our division advanced to their assistance, 
shouting as we ran. As soon as we got under fire our men stopped their 
cheering, and all hands became as docile as lambs. It is wonderful to notice 
the leveling effect the getting into battle has alike on ofSoers and men. It 
is a time when no one man feels more aristocratic than another : those iron 
balls are no respecters of persons. 

To our division was assigned the task of attacking the tHe-da-p(mt, or 
bridge-head. Wo deployed and approached through the cornfields, sinking 
ankle-deep in the mud, and leaping the ditches as well as we could. Some 
being weak in their underpins waded through. Not a few scenes occurred 
so ludicrous that a man would certainly laugh if he knew he was to be shot 
the next moment solely on that account ; for some, iu their attempts to leap 
the ditches, jumped short, struck the opposite bank, and then fell backward 
full length into the dirty water. 

We were in full view of the enemy from their elevated positions : al- 
though they were pouring in upon us a murderous fire, which was taking off 
our men in all directions, yet we could not refrain from laughter when we 
saw a poor fellow in his awkwardness tumble into a ditch and then crawl 
out, like a half drowned puppy, with the dirty water dripping from him and 
his ammunition and musket rendered useless from the wet. 

It was severe work crossing those ditches and floundering about in the 
mud, water, and corn, all under a tremendous fire of grape and musketry. 



OF AMEUICANS. 465 

In that bloody fieUl many were the men I saw instantly dniirivod of life. 
One circumstance occurred to me that I shall relate. I had leaped a ditch 
just as a heavy load of grape-shot from one of the guns in the tHe-du-pont 
Btruck all about me. I remained untouched, but an artillery-man immedi- 
ately in front of me sank heavily to the earth, struck by a grape-shot doubt- 
less in a vital part, for I did not hear him utter a groan. At the same 
instant I heard a cry in the rear calling piteously for help. I had heard 
that cry often before, aud supposing some one was wounded, would have 
paid no attention to it but for the fact that I had stopped to load my mus- 
ket. The cry for help was repeated so piteously that I looked back, and 
there was a poor fellow, another of the artillery, who had fallen wounded 
into the water, where ho was struggling to extricate himself. I leaned my 
musket against a broken cornstalk to keep it out of the mud, and sprang to 
help him. lie had been wounded in the kneo and side. I seized his left 
baud with my left, put my right hand behind his left shoulder, and had 
raised him just on the edge of the ditch when another load of grape-shot 
came sweeping and clattering all about with dreadful velocity. My relative 
position to the gun was such that the shot came in a quartering direction to 
my right side and back. One of the grape-shots passed over my right arm 
and struck my poor comrade just behind the left ear, knocking out the back 
part of his head, killing him instantly. He gave a heavy lurch backward, 
falling into the ditch, and so suddenly was it done that I came near going 
in with him. My regiment had in the meantime got far ahead. Such are 
some of the bloody scenes of war. 

With more jumping of ditches, we come near enough to the enemy to 
discern the buttons on their coats. Wich a little more firing they break and 
run, and we have possession of the tHe-du-pont. They crowd out the other 
side, but our bayonets travel faster than they, and many fall as they run. 
Now and then one, braver than his companions, turns and sends a bullet at 
our faces — zip I it comes. Bless me ! if that had struck one in the mouth, 
it would be all the supper he would want this day ! Away they scamper, 
like some huge cloud, their muskets and great-coats, as they throw them 
down, strewing the road. Then we cheer with e.xultant victory. We feel 
full to overflowing with military enthusiasm. Big tears fill our eyes and run 
down our cheeks, for we have stormed the fort and it is ours. 

Thus ended this great day — a day of five distinct battles and of five vic- 
tories. The whole army remained near the field of battle. We now went 
to work gathering wood for the cooks to pirepare our coffee. We had been 
too busy through the day to think of eating. Hunger most dreadful seized 
upon us, and, now that the battle was over, I thought of nothing and cared 
for nothing, but something to eat. As soon as I had drank my coli'ee and 
cleaned out my haversack of the remains of the hard bread, I wanted to 
sleep. I was covered with mud from head to foot, my clothes were stiff 
with mud and my bodv stiff with fatigue. I had lived and worked an age 
that day ; while hungrj-, I did not feel anj- fatigue. This satisfied, a most 
indescribable sensation of exhaustion and soreness came over me, so that I 
could scarcely move. It had begun to rain, so I crawled uwler one of the 
company's wagons, took a stone for a pillow, put my handkerchief on tliat, 
and laid down in my muddy state. I was very soon asleep. Thousands 



466 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

were worse off. How was it with the poor vvouiided men who, added to 
this dreadful fatigue, wer§ suffering from agonizing wounds that wouUl not 
permit even the luxury of sleeping under a wagon. The dead were better 
off than any of us. Ah ! what untold miseries have been suffered on the 
battle field ! 

On awaking the next morning, I felt all over as if I had been beaten half 
to death with clubs. We soon after passed over the field of our recent con- 
flict. The Mexican dead were lying around in heaps — some in the muddy 
ditches and others half in. Some of them were so much mangled and 
trampled in the mud that it seemed almost impossible to recognize the hor- 
rible mass as ever having been 'a. human being. Countenances expressing 
various emotions were shown — some looking pleasant in death, others exhi- 
bited extreme agony ; others still there were with knit brow and compressed 
lip, showing determination and revenge. Dead horses and mules were 
lying about, and thousands of small arms, muskets, escopets, swords, bayo- 
nets, lances, cartridge-boxes, belts, blankets, great-coats of all colors, uni- 
form caps of all shapes, etc. Immense damage appears to have been done 
to their music bauds, as prodigious quantities of musical instruments were 
scattered all over the field — drums, fifes, bugles, clarionets, trombones, oph- 
clides, etc. Their defeat had been complete. 

Our division took post at Tacubaya, three miles distant. On the same 
day. General Scott was met by commissioners from Santa Anna, proposing an 
armistice, ostensibly with a view to peace. It was, however, a mere strata- 
gem on the part of the wily Mexican, to gain time to recover from his de- 
feats and put the city in a better state of defense. He had no authority to 
conclude a treaty, and beside, the Mexican people were indisposed to peace. 
Our noble general, ever anxious to put an end to the strife of arms, acceded 
to the proposals in good faith, " for," said he in his beautiful letter, written 
at the time, " enough blood has been shed in this unnatural war." 

The negotiations failed as our enemies designed, and on the 7th of Sep- 
tember, Scott took measures to resume hostilities. To give a comprehen- 
sive idea of the situation and defenses of the enemy, which we attacked 
the next day, I make an extract from Mansfield's "Mexican War." 

"On tlie 7th of September, Scott, having determined to carry the City of 
Mexico by assault, accompanied by General Worth, made a reconnoissance 
of the formidable defenses of the enemy immediately in front of Tacubaya, 
aud commanding the principal causeway and the aqueduct supplying the 
city with water. This observation determined the general-in-chief to attack 
what may be called the defenses of Chapultepec. These were several, col- 
laterally supporting one another, and constituting on the whole a very strong 
})oint d'appiii and support for the Mexican army; the larger part (if not tha 
whole) was now assembled at this point. We must now take a view of 
these defenses to understand the actions which ensued. Early on the same 
morning, Captain Mason of the engineers made a close and daring reconnois- 
sance of the enemy's line, round and on Chapultepec. The results of this 
investigation may he thus stated : 

The little village of T'acubaya, at which were General Scott's headquarters, 
is about two miles and a half from the City of Mexico. About twelve hun- 
dred yards north of it, just point-blank range for twelve-pounders, is the hill 



OF AMERICANS. 4(37 

and fortified buildings of Chapultoiiec. At this point, the causewnv 
branches olT to the east, being about two miles iu length to the city. The 
Tacubaya road passed on till, in two miles more, it entered the San Cosmo 
causeway. These causeways are the avenues to the city ; and bombs and 
cannon of heavy caliber, placed on the hill of Chapultepec, could command 
tliem, and the city itself. The knowledge of this fact informs us, at once, 
why General Scott deemed it necessary to possess this castle, in order to 
take the city. Once possessed, the city must fall of course. Without it, 
tlio avenues to the city, and the city itself, would be exposed to the bom- 
bardment of the enemy's batteries. 

Let us now examine in detail, the particular points of the defense. 

CuAPULTEPEC is a porphyritic rock, called in the Aztec language, " Grass- 
hopper's Hill." It rose from the former margin of the lake — was the resort 
of the Aztec princes, and is the real site of the much-sought Halls of the 
Montezumas. Here are the remains of gardens, groves, and grottoes — the 
lingering remnants of that magnificence which adorned the ancient Citv of 
Mexico. Here also, the Spanish viceroys .selected their residence, as the 
most beautiful spot in the Valley of Mexico. And here was now placed 
the military college. The cadets of the institution were now among its de- 
fenders. The buildings on the top were well fortified, and the base of the 
hill was nearly surrounded by a thick stone wall. On the north, oast, and 
south, this hill was abrupt and stony. On the west only Cfrom the cityl it 
seemed to permit any approach. On this side, down the slope, was a heavj' 
forest. On this side, the American commander determined to assault it ; 
but here also were formidable defenses. 

El Mound del Rey is just at the foot of this hillslope — adjoins the grove 
of trees, and is a stone building of thick and high walls, with towers at tho 
end. This was strongly garrisoned, and made a sort of depot, and w;u> sup- 
posed to have been used as a foundry re<;ently, though really built for mills, 
and called ■ the King's Mill' 
. Casa de Mata is another massive, thick-wallcd stone building, standing 
about four hundred yards to the west of Molino del Rey, and in a straight 
line with that and the castle, of Chapultepec. It is also at the foot of a 
gentle declivity or ridge, descending from the village of Tacubaya. 

It follows then, from this topographical survey, that Chapultepec is a 
position commanding all the roads around, and that this position can bo 
approached only on one side, on which is a grove of trees ; and that at tho 
foot of this slope, lie Molino del Rey and Casa do Mata, well defended, so 
that the first attack must necessarily be made on Molino del Rey, or Chapul- 
tepec could not be taken ; and if not taken, there was no safe passage to the 
city. The first thing to be done then, was the storming of Molino del Rey. 

Accordingly, after the roconnoissance of the 7th, General Scott ordered 
General Worth with the first division, reinforced by Cadwallader's brigade 
and a detachment of dragoons and artillery, to attack and carry the lines 
and defenses of the enemy at the foot of tho hill, capture Molino del Rey, 
destroy the supposed materiel there, and then withdraw again to the village 
of Tacubaya. 

The position of the enemy was well selected to defend the naturally 
strong grounds thev had assumed. His left rested upon and occupied tha 
30 



4GS ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

stone biiildinj, Molino del Rev ; his right, in the same manner, rested upon 
the stone building called Casa de Mata. Midway between these was his 
field-batterj', and on each side of it were his lines of infantry. 

It must be recollected, however, that when this arrangement was made, 
no one in the American army knew the real strength of the fortified posts 
occupied by the Mexican army. Worth made the most judicious arrange- 
ments for the attack. The object in view was to break up, 1. The enemy's 
lines of intrcnchments, and, 2. To destroy the munitions in Molino del Rev, 
after which the troops were to retire. Those defenses being completely 
under the guns of the Castle of Chapultepec, it may be assumed that the 
commanding-general deemed it unnecessary to retain the troops in that ex- 
posed situation, when the object for which they had gone there had been 
accomplished. 

Worth divided his corps into three columns, with a reserve, to act respec- 
tivel}' against the wings and center of the enemy. I. The right column 
(opposite the enemy's left, Molino del Key) was composed of Garland's bri- 
gade, to look at and in time attack El Molino. This column was accom- 
panied by Captain Drum and two pieces of artillery. To attack with this 
column, and thus keep in check Chapultepec and its defenses. Captain Hu- 
ger's battery of twenty-four pounders was placed on the ridge descending 
from Tacubaya, and at about six hundred yards from El Molino. 2. A 
storming party of five hundred picked men was placed to the left of this 
batter}', under the command of Major Wright, of the Eighth Infantry, to 
assail the eTiemy's center and capture his field-battery. 3. The second bri- 
gade (now under the command of Colonel M'Intosh) was placed higher up 
the ridge, accompanied by Duncan's battery, to watch the enemy's left, sup- 
port Major Wright, or assail, as circumstances might require. Cadwallader's 
brigade was held in reserve, in a position between the last column (M'ln- 
tosh's) and the battering guns, that they might support either column, as 
they might neeil. Sumner's dragoons were on the extreme left, guarding 
that flank. Such were the dispositions made by Worth on the night of the 
7th of September. At three o'clock on the morning of the 8th, the columns 
were put in motion, and at daylight they were all in their respective 
positions." 

Wo had in the field, on the morning of this bloody day, under General 
Worth, a tritle over three thousand men against nearly four times our num- 
ber, in their own chosen piositions, in their own country, right at the gates of 
their own capital, under the eyes of their wives and sweethearts to encour- 
age them on to deeds of valor. Having got into our respective positions, 
we awaited until the morning light should enable us to move against our 
foe. As we silently lay in our positions, like crouched tigers ready for the 
fatal spring, not a sound disturbed tlie awful stillness of the morning. 
Soon the sun began to shoot up some of its first rays, when the whole eastern 
horizon assumed an enchanting aspect, with the dark outlines of distant 
mountains projected, sharp, cold, and clear, against it. All around us ths 
landscape was enveloped in a midnight-like darkness : not an object could 
be discerned, yet near was the City of Mexico, and, right in front, our foes 
strongly intrenched behind their death-dealing batteries. 

While each was silently contemplating this scene and busy with the 



OF AMERICANS. 469 

thoughts of the coming battle, the clear ringing Uasts of a sohtary bugle 
oamo from the heights of Chapultepec ; then succeeded the roll of drums 
with their continuous rattling music. It was the Mexican reveille. It 
filled the whole valley for miles around, until striking the distant mountain 
gorges, it came back in prolonged echoes. 

In a few minutes more — hoom ! hocnn ! went our two twenty-four pounders. 
Ye gods ! how they roared ! — and as those two reports rolled away over the 
valley and struck the distant mountains, it seemed like the crashing of 
mighty thunder. Every living soul within thirty miles, it seemed to me, 
must have been startled by the concussion. Instantly the Mexican reveille 
ceased and all again was silent save the far-distant muttering echoes of those 
guns. Again those two iron monsters opened their capacious throats, and 
roared their thunder in terrific peals over the doomed capital, while the 
balls went crashing right through the buildings on the left wing of the 
enemy. A few more discharges and our little storming party rushed for- 
ward. The Mexicans laid down and coolly awaited their approach. What 
followed I give as told to mo by Montgomery, one of our men detailed for 
the purpose. 

" We advanced at a quick pace until within a few yards, when we halted 
a moment until Captain Mason, of the engineers, ran up for a close inspec- 
tion. Not a single soul could he see : swinging his hat. Mason sang out — 
' Forward, men ! there is no one here !' I knew better, for, although I did 
not see any Mexicansi, I discerned some field guns glistening in the light of 
the gray eastern dawn. We rushed forward, when, as if by magic, the 
whole ground became alive with Mexicans, who, as they rose to their feet, 
poured into our men a perfect storm of shot. Our fellows dashed in and 
actually captured their guns, when the enemy seeing what a mere handful 
we were, rallied and by their overwhelming numbers bore us down, retook 
their guns, and compelled the remnant of us to retreat to the main body." 

In this desperate charge, our storming party lost four out of every five 
men engaged : of the fourteen ofScers with them, eleven were either killed 
or wounded. 

Xow came our turn ; up we sprang and charged down upon the enemy's 
position. They were in and on the tops of houses, and behind sandbags. 
Our regiment and some of the artillery for a few moments sheltered them- 
selves behind the bend of a high wall. While in this position, Captain 
Drum's battery was dragged forward by hand. Owing to their position, these 
guns could only bo worked right in the road, which was so dreadfully raked 
by musketrj' and grape-shot that it was almost certain death to remain 
there. One of them was run forward to near our j)oint of shelter. It stood 
for some moments, no one attempting to load or fire it. What had become 
of the artillery company I know not : the man with the rammer was there. 
Some of us stepped out and loaded and fired it several times witli grape. 
While at this place I looked to see what was going on at our left, and do- 
scried our forces moving regularly down in order of battle, charging on the 
enera}'. 

My eye at this moment caught a little incident. Just out in the open 
space beyond the gun, was a large maguiiy plant ; behind this, down on one 
knee, was an infantry sergeant deliberately loading .and firing. The plant 



470 ADVENTURES AND ACHIE\^IEN'TS 

being spongy was of no more protection than so much paper. He was 
under a complete shower of balls, they struck all around him, hit the plant 
apparently right in front of him, and I expected every moment to see him 
fall ; yet he kept coolly on at his work, and may have escaped unharmed. 

In the course of five minutes, we were ordered to charge out on the road 
and then down to a large gate, the main entrance to the interio;' of the 
houses and the works on that side of the mill. We burst open the gate, 
which let us into the yard and rear of the whole concern. There we found 
a large body of the enemy, in the yards, in the houses, and on the roofs. 
For about three-quarters of an hour we had the hardest fighting in all my 
experience. At first we had to take it in the open yards, then we got into 
the houses, and there we had hot work too. Often we were in a house 
while the enemy covered the roof. In passing from one house to another, 
those on the roofs fired down upon us. Many of our men were laid out in 
this manner. I came near being caught myself. While in one of the 
houses, in starting to run through a small hall open to the roof, I happened 
to cast my eye up, and there saw a big Mexican in the act of taking aim at 
me. I darted back just in time to escape the ball which came down, craclc, 
on the very spot I had occupied. "Bless you, my chap!" thought I, 
" mind if I don't punish you for that ! " and as I stood back with my mus- 
ket cocked and my finger on the trigger to catch a sight of him, several of 
our men entered the room, among whom was a corporal of artillery. He 
came rushing along, and before I could arrest his progress, he got into the 
little hall and unaccountably stopped there.' I yelled to him, and at that 
instant a ball from above passed his face and sank into his breast. He fell 
into my arms, when I laid him down and he died instantly. Seeing this, 
we determined to stop the game. We fixed ourselves on each side of the 
door, and by a little maneuvering, made it rather a hot climate for those 
gentlemen up there. We were not satisfied until five of them had turned 
a somerset into that little hall and their companions had emigrated to more 
comfortable quarters. This is the way matters went for some time. The 
slaughter was prodigious. Notwithstanding their losses, the enemy stood 
mp to their work and fought desperately. The fact was, that in this battle 
the Mexicans were mostly drunk, and Dutch courage, as the kind this pro- 
duces is called, sometimes works wonders. 

We took many prisoners in this place. When we motioned to them to 
throw down their arms and surrender, some thought we meant that they 
should fall on their knees. On getting hoW of their arms, we usually broke 
them over the edges of stones. In one place in the yard, were some seventy 
prisoners all together, guarded by a few of our men detailed for the pur- 
pose. The guard neglected to break all of their arms, so there were, includ- 
ing those of our soldiers who had been killed, many serviceable muskets 
scattered there over the ground. Some of the guard, instead of watching 
their prisoners, turned around and were busy shooting at the enemy. A big, 
burly Mexican sergeant, observing how carelessly they were guarded, 
thought he could escape. He shouted out something to his companions in 
Spanish, and springing to one side, picked up a loaded musket. Another of 
the prisoners did the same. The sergeant then shot the sentinel nearest to 
him through the stomach. This was my dirty Dutchman of Pittsburgh, 



OF AMERICANS. 471 

? 

who was flogged at Camp Salubrity. The Dutchman returned Iho fire, but 
missed and shot another prisoner who was not trying to escape, and then 
died. Tlie guard calling for help — that the prisoners were escaping — my- 
self and othei-s ran to their aid. I gave chase to the Mexican sergeant, and 
as my gun was discharged when I came up, he got the long, slender piece 
of bright steel at the end of my musket, which caused one Mexican less. 

Shortly after this little emeute, the Mexicans were driven entirely from 
these works, and thej' were destroyed. We had gained the victory, but at 
an awful expense. Our loss in killed and wounded was over seven hundred 
men, one-fourth of all our entire force in the action. We had, however, 
driven fourteen thousand Mexicans from their fortifications, and taken over 
eight hundred prisoners, among whom were some of their most skillful 
generals. 

My personal adventures this day were considerable. I had very many 
narrow escapes. My clothing was pierced four times : 1. A musket ball 
struck the band of my cap, just above my right ear. 2. A grape-shot cut 
through the bottom of my pantaloons on the inside of my left ankle. 3. A 
musket ball piuised through the inner side of my pantaloons at my right 
thigh. 4. Another musket ball clipped the top of my left shoulder. 

The battle of Molino del Rey was the severest action of the war. For 
the time it lasted, it was almost unprecedented : as many men were here 
killed and wounded in two hours, as at Buena Vista in two days. Such 
hard fighting none of us ever before experienced : the very air appeared to 
be full of fire and iron hail ; it was astonishing to me that we were not all 
killed. 

Some incidents that occurred I here detail. When the heat of the action 
wa.s over and only a few scattering shots were being exchanged, some of the 
men went looking around over the premises to make discoveries. One of 
them, a curious genius of G oompan)', heard a voice calling to him, " Stov- 
0T1.S, for heaven's sake, give me a little water!" He sprang to supply the 
poor fellow's wants ; on coming up to him, who should it prove to be but 
Lester, who had some time previously deserted from bis company, joined 
the Mexicms, and was badly wounded in this battle ! lie had reco'^nized 
Stevens, and supposing he would help him, had called to him, as we have 
seen. "Yes!" replied Stevens, "I'll give you water — jjlenty of it!" and 
so saying, he picked him up and threw him into the millraoe. Lester, poor 
scamp, floated down over the water-wheel, and then disappeared under a 
culvert where the water ran for more than a mile before it came to light 
again. 

" Stevens, that w.as too bad ! " exclaimed one of us to him. 

"Good enough for a deserter!" answered he, with an oath. 

Another incident or two and I am done. When driven out from tlio mill, 
the Mexicans fired upon us from Chapultepec. Their shot was taking olfect 
on a back-porch of a house in the yard, so that we kept shy of the place. 
A soldier of the Fourteenth Infantry came along, apparently looking for 
plunder. We warned him to keep away from that porch. " Oh ! " said he, 
"I know what I'm about," and carelessly loitered there in full view of the 
enemy from the castle, lie came near being hit several times : finally a 
heavy shot struck him in the haunch, knocking the whole left thigh right 



472 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEA^EMENTS 

from under him. "Ob ! you il — J rascals ! " he exclaimed, "you have got 
me at last ! " and immediately died. 

That evening those of ujs who survived had returned to our old quarters 
at Tacubaj'a ; very many that had rested the last night in the building 
■were cold in death — others were in the hospital groaning with agonizing 
■wounds. 

The first duty after a battle is for the commanding officers to make 
out a report of the transactions of their respect? ve commands during the 
fight, and send them in to the general. Lieutenant Gore in his company 
report, had recommended Sergeant Howard, Private Montgomery, and my- 
self for meritorious conduct at Molino del Rey. By act of Congress any 
Don-commisciuned officers so recommended were to receive commissions in 
the army, and any private an additional monthly pny of two dollars. Old 

, the officer whose duty it was to send these reports to Worth, got 

beastly drunk, and never sent in our names at all. We thus lost our com- 
missions. This affair grieved us much. Howard declared he would not 
stay in an army where such injustice was suffered ; as for myself, the injury 
rankled in my breast for years. 

Our militarj' operations were at this time retarded by the weather, for it 
was the rainy season. This kind of weather has a regularity in Mexico un- 
known to us. It operates in this way. You arise in the morning to find a 
clear sky and a glorious sun. The trees have a peculiar freshness and a 
cool, rich green, grateful to the eye. The bright blue bky continues until 
noon or a little past, with a soft, bland air that makes every breath a luxury. 
Delicious perfumes of tropical plants and fruits fill the atmosphere and en- 
hance the charms of these morning hours. Past noon small flecks of 
clouds appear; directly the whole heavens are overcast with dark masses, 
and the rain begins to pour, accompanied more or less by thunder and light- 
ning. After midnight, the clouds vanish and the stars appear. When day 
again dawns the weather of yesterday is repeated, with its bright sun, blue 
sky, fresh foliage, luxurious atmosphere, delicious odors, and then angry 
clouds, rain, thunder, and lightning. 

General Scott next made arrangements to attack the fortifications of Cha- 
pultepec. Our division was held iu reserve, and it fell to the lot of others 
to advance and carry out these operations. When the castle was taken, the 
enemy came down in great numbers. We sprang up from our position and 
pursued them some distance in their retreat toward the city. Wishing to 
Bee the castle, I then rau around to the point from whence they had re- 
treated, ascended a long flight of steps, and got iu just before General Scott 
rode up. Our men were nearly crazy with joy, hurraing and swinging 
their caps. Nothing could surpass the scene. The soldiers crowded around 
Scott in the wildest enthusiasm, cheering, catching him by the feet, and 
manifesting every token of joy. The old soldier for a moment was entirely 
overcome with emotion ; great tears rolled down his cheeks, nor did he at- 
terap* r,o wipe them away. Those tears arose from an overflowing heart — 
from gratitude to his brave men who loved him as children love a father. 
Finally the beloved old general addressed them, the tears streaming all the 
time. I recollect only these few words : " Fellow soldiers ! You have this 
day been baptized in blood and fire, and you have come out steel ! " I am 



OF AMEUkANB. 473 

not ashamed to confess I loo was among llio cxciuJ ones, for I crioJ lil;o a 
child. 

A little after this, Corporal M'Crelisli, of my ccmpaii}-, and myself, walked 
out some distance on the San Cosme causeway toward the city. This 
causeway runs north from Chapultepeo about half a mile to the iutersecOjon 
of another road, and then makes an angle and leads directly into the city. 
At the angle w;is a battery, and between it and the city another still, and a 
third battery Wiis at the city gate, which was a strongly-fortified arched stone 
work. We went as far as the angle, and at that time not a single Mexi- 
can soldier was to be seen between Chapultepeo and the city gate, llad our 
troops then advanced, the whole causeway could have been occupied with 
simply the trouble of marching on to it. We immediately returned and 
reported what we had seen, but without having any attention paid to us. 
This neglect cost many lives. 

Near noon, Worth ordered his division to advance on this route. Our 
regiment was in front. In a few minutes we got warmly engaged with the 
enemy, who had thrown troops into those batteries. We took shelter 
behind the arches of the aqueduct, and ran from one to the other until 
about one o'clock, when we carried the first work and the enemy full back 
to the next nearer the gate. 

While we were holding the first battery, General Scott came up and 
ordered Worth to advance on the gate, called by the Mexicans " Garita." 
Just about this time, the fragment of our company that was on the ground, 
advanced alone and unsupported nearly up to the second battery. The 
enemy had got some cannon and a large force of infantry in this work. Along 
with our company was Sergeant Bloss, who that day was color-bearer. He 
liad rashly advanced without his guard excepting two or three men. We 
crept along with but little opposition until we arrived at a point where the 
street widened. There Bloss attempted, in company with half a dozen 
others, to cross to the other side, to a vacant space beside a house which 
stood between it and the enemy. While running across, a perfect storm of 
grape and musketry was poured into them. The rest of us remained under 
the arches of the aqueduct, and the only officer near was Lieutenant Gore. 
When this discharge came, Bloss was swept into eternity, and the colors 
fell in the dust almost within reach of the enemy. As the Mexicans saw 
them fall, they rushed out for them, yelling like demons. One of our men 
thereupon sprang from behind the arches, seized them and thus saved 
the honor of the regimjut. 1 was on the start for that purpose myself 
but this man was too quick for me. The enemy still came bounding on, 
shouting as they ran, and wo retreated as fast as we could, for thoy 
were too many for us. They chased us until wo got back nearly to 
the corner battery, when they were brought up by a load of grape- 
shot from one of our guns. Our colors escajjed by a very narrow chance 
falling into their hands. Had they got them, it would have been an ever- 
lasting stigma upon us. For a regiment to lose its colors, in any other way 
than by a surrender or the actual capture of the whole corps, is considered 
as a sign of cowardice, for of all things the colors are to be defended. Thoy 
are the rallying point, the embodiment of the honor of the regiment, and 
must be protected as long as a single soldier is left alive to fight for tlieni. 



i7* ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

When the other officers and men leurned of this event they were much 
ahvrmed, and it was !;ept as quiet as possible. Had the Mexicans captured 
them, they would have crowed greatly over their prize. They would have 
got a splendid trophy, for they were wounded at Monterey with twenty-six 
balls, and in every battle more or less riddled. Sergeant BIoss was after a 
commission when he acted so rashly. When we subsequently came up to 
where, he had fallen, we found him stripped entirely naked. The dirty- 
dogs had a habit of stripping our dead when they got a chance, especially 
the officers whose clothes were valuable. It was not the case with Bloss, 
however, for ho had put on that day a miserable old worn out suit to save 
his good ones ; and the only object the Mexicans had in stripping him, 
doubtless was to vent their spite in failing to get our glorious old colors that 
had waved in triumph over many a hard fought field. 

Some time after the first battery was carried, our whole division moved 
forward toward the Garita gate, which wa.s then battered severely by our 
twenty-four pounders. Outside of the gate was a collection of houses which 
afforded us some protection. After skirmishing, digging through the walls, 
passing through back-yards, and firing from the windows and the roofs of 
houses, we flualh', just before sunset, charged on the gate itself, and carried 
it, and thus we were in the City of Mexico. 

Worth now came up, and seeing some of us standing around, inquired : 

"What regiment is this ?" 

We answered ; upon which he replied : 

"God bless the Fourth Infantry ! God bless them ! " 

He ordered up the twenty-four pounders, and then said : 

"Give 'era a few more shots, and I don't care a where they go !" 

It was done, and one of the shells fell and exploded in a nunnery, and 
did considerable damage. That night we occupied the mansion of a Catho- 
lic bishop, close by the gate. It was a handsomely furnished establishment, 
with fine beds, Brussels carpets, and paintings on the walls. We availed 
ourselves of our privileges as conquerors, and searched very thoroughly, but 
unsuccessfully, for money. For my own part, I did nothing more wicked 
than to break into the buttery and regale mj-self with some nice preserves. 

The next day the city surrendered. I here insert an extract from the 
report of General Scott, giving the particulars of the surrender and a sum- 
mary of our operations in the Valley of Mexico. 

"About four o'clock next morning (September 14, 1847), a deputation of 
the ayuntamietito (city council) waited upon me to report that the federal 
government and the army of Mexico had fled from the capital some three 
hours before ; and to demand terms of capitulation in favor of the church, 
the citizens, and the municipal authorities. I promptly replied, that I would 
«gn no capitulation ; that the city had been virtually in our possession from 
the time of the lodgments effected by Worth and Quitman the day before ; 
that I regretted the silent escape of the Mexican array ; that I should 
levy upon the city a moderate contribution for special purposes ; and that 
the American army should come under no terms not self-imposed : such 
only as its own honor, the dignity of the United States, and the spirit of the 
age, should, in my opinion, imperiously demand and impose. 

Soon after we had entered, and were in the act of occupying the city, a 



OF AMERICANS. 475 

fire was opoiiod upon us from tho flat roofs of the houses, from wiiiJous ami 
corners of streets, by some two thousand convicts, liberated the night before 
liy the flying government, joined by, perhaps, as many Mexican soldiers, 
who had disbanded themselves, and_ thrown off their uniforms. This un- 
lawful war lasted more tlian twenty-four hours, in spite of the exertions of 
the municipal authorities, and was not put down till we had lost many 
men, including several officers, killed or wounded, and had punished the 
miscreants. Their objects were to gratify national hatred, and in the gene- 
ral alarm and confusion, to plunder the wealthy inhabitants, particularly the 
deserted houses. But families are now generally returning ; business of 
every kind has been resumed, and the city is already tranquil and cheerful 
under the admirable conduct (with exceptions very few and trilling) of our 
gallant troojis. 

This army has been more disgusted than surprised, that by some sinister 
process on the part of certain individuals at liome, its numbers have been, 
generally, almost trebled in our public papers, beginning at Washington. 

Leaving, as we all feared, inadequate garrisons at Vera Cruz, Perote, and 
Puebla, with much larger hospitals ; and being obliged, most reluctantly, 
from the same cause (general paucity of numbers) to abandon Jalapa, wo 
marched (August 7-10) from Puebla with only ten thousand seven luiiidred 
and thirty-eight rank and file. This number includes the garrison of Jalapa, 
and the two thousand four hundred and twenty-nine men brought up by 
Brigadier-General Pierce, August 6. 

At Contreras, Churubusoo, etc., (August 20) we had but eight thousand 
four hundred and ninety-seven men engaged — after deducting the garrison 
of San Augustine (our general depot), the intermediate sick and the dead ; 
at Molino del Rev (September 8), but three brigades, with some cavalry and 
artillery — making in all three thousand two hundred and fiity-ono men — 
were in the battle ; in the two daj's — September 12lh and 13tli — our whole 
operating force, after deducting again the recent killed, wounded, and sick, 
together with the garrison of Miscoac (the then general depot) and that of 
Tacubaya, was but seven thousand one hundred and eighty ; and finally, 
after deducting the new garrison of Chupultepec, with the killed and 
wounded of the two days, we took possession (September 14th) of this great 
capital with less than six thousand men. And I reassert, upon accumulated 
and unquestionable evidence, that in not one of those conflicts was this army 
opposed by fewer than three-and-a-half times its numbers — in several of 
them by a yet greater excess. 

I recapitulate our losses since we arrived in the basin of Mexico. 

August 19, 20. — Killed, one hundred and thirty-seven, including fourteen 
officers. Wounded, eight hundred and seventy-seven, including sixty-two 
officers. Missing (probably killed), thirty-eight rank and file. Total, one 
thousand and fifty-two. 

Septemher 8. — Killed, one hundred and sixteen, including nine oflicers. 
Wounded six hundred and sixty-five, including forty-nine oflicers. Miss- 
ing, eighteen rank and file. Total, seven hundred and eighty-nine. 

September 12, 13, 1-1. — Killed, one hundred and thirty, including ten offi- 
cers. Wounded, seven hundred and three, including sixty-eight oflicei-s. 
Missing, twenty-nine rank and file. Total, eight humlred and sixty-two. 



476 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Grand total of losses, two thousand seven hundred and three, including 
three hundred and eighty-three officers. 

On the other hand, this small force has beaten on the same occasions, in 
view of their capital, the whole Mexican army, of (at the beginning) thirty- 
odd thousand men — posted always in chosen positions, behind iutrench- 
meuts or more formidable defenses of nature and art ; killed or wounded of 
that number more than seven thousand officers and men ; taken throe thou- 
sand seven hundred and thirty prisoners, one-seventh officers, including 
thirteen generals, of whom three had been Presidents of this republic ; cap- 
tured more than twenty colors and standards, seventy-five pieces of ord- 
nance, beside fifty-seven wall pieces, twenty thousand small arms, an im- 
mense qnantit}' of shots, shells, powder, etc. 

Of that enemy, once so formidable in numbers, appointments, artillery, 
etc., twenty-odd thousand have disbanded themselves in despair, leaving, as 
is known, not more than three fragments — the largest about two thousand 
five hundred — now wandering in different directions, without magazines or 
a military chest, and living at free quarters upon their own people." 

Well, here we were in the City of Mexico, and although it was evident 
that our fighting was, for the present at least, over, yet immediate peace did 
not appear probable. The people were disinclined to peace : they felt sore 
and mortified under their many chastisements. To be whipped on every 
single battle-field ; to be without one single victory over the "North Ameri- 
cans " was a very hard fact for their digestion — for not even one did the 
bloody god vouchsafe to this hybrid race, who are so eternally worshiping 
in his hideous temples. 

Our duty was now altogether of guard. There were enough common 
people in this city of two hundred thousand souls, had they had the energy, 
to have crushed us with all ease. Half of our force had to be on post at 
once to guard against insurrection. Our duty was very irksome, for the 
other half, not on guard, were obliged to have on their belts, and their arms 
close at hand, ready for any emergency. 

Large quantities of tropical fruits were brought into the city to sell to the 
soldiers. Many of the men became sick in consequence of over-indulgenoe. 
The result was that our regimental commander issued orders against fruit- 
venders, and also against the introduction of liquor into the quarters. A 
Mexican was detected one day selling liquor to our men ; by order of Lieu- 
tenant H., he was stripped, tied to a stack of muskets, and given forty 
lashes with a raw-hide. The poor fellow begged for mercy, and promised 
not to do so again : it was of no avail, he received the full number. I was 
indignant at this cruelty, ray blood boiled, and I could, with a good grace, 
have sprung upon the officer and punished him for his uncalled-for severity. 
Ue had no right to thus treat a citizen of another country. 

I .should like, had I space, to detail many things of interest connected 
with our sojourn in the city— the curiosities of the place, the customs of tlie 
people, and incidents connected with oureelves there. Tliese I must pass 
over. On the IGth of December, our division moved out of the city and 
took up their quarters again at Tacub.aya. 

I will now .<ipc.ak somewhat at length ujion the subject of punishment in 
the army. Years ago, flogging for every offense, excepting desertion, was 



OF AMERICANS. 477 

abolished by law. It is necessary to uisciplino that punishments should bo 
enforced ; but they ought to be of a reformatory nature. They are, how- 
ever, of a most degrading and disgusting character, worse in their tendency 
even than flogging. It is common to speak of the savage as being refined 
in cruelty ; but I will pit some officers of our arm}' against the most .accom- 
plished savage in inventive powers for inflicting suflcring. The hellish 
ingenuity of some of these men in torture would have made them an acqui- 
sition to the Spanish Inquisition in its most bloody era. Want of sympathy 
for the soldier, and tyranny in their intercourse with him, are seldom or 
never seeji in officers appointed from civil life. Not so with many of the 
graduates of West Point. They enter that institution mere boys. While 
there, they are about as effectually secluded from the world, as girls in a 
nunnery. On graduating, they are sent perliaps to some isolated post on the 
frontier. The result is that they come to the command of soldiers without 
any knowledge of men, and with tlie idea taught by the despotism of a mili- 
tary education, that the common soldier is but a little better than a brute. 
" Why ! j'ou should not t;Uk to that man — he is but a common soldier ! " 
said a West Point cadet to a little brother there on a visit. Such is an inci- 
dent that illustrates the ideas of many of those officers, of the rank and file 
of the array. With such ideas there can be no humanity felt for the sol- 
dier. We need not wonder then at the invention of some of the modes of 
treating the offending soldiers, I here describe. 

1. At Camp Salubrity a very common method of punishment was to 
compel the offender to walk to and fro with the sentinel, for hours at a 
time, carrying a log of fifty pounds weight on his shoulders; then he would 
be allowed to rest a half an hour or an hour. This is a very severe i)uuish- 
ment, and if ihere was not danger of killing the man, he would not be al- 
lowed to rest at all. 2. Compelling the offender to stand on a barrel-head, 
four hours on and one off, with a heavy log on his shoulders. This is worse 
than the first. I have seen men in this position cry in agony, and when 
it was impossible for nature to hold out any longer, to tumble off. 3. To 
stand on a barrel-head with the face blackened like a negro. 4. The culprit 
has a barrel put over him, with a hole in the top to receive his head, and 
holes on the sides for his arras ; thus aoooutered, and with face black- 
ened, he is compelled to walk post with the sentry. 5. A ball of from six 
to thirty-two pounds weight is attached by a chain to his leg. 6. An iron 
collar is put on his neck, with three projecting prongs, so that it is very dif- 
ficult for the wearer to lie down to rest. 7. Bucking is the name of another 
severe punishment. The man is made to sit down with liis knees drawn 
up to his chest ; his wrists are tied together ; his elbows pulled down below 
and back of his knees, and, when there, a strong stick is run through above 
his elbows and under his legs. In this situation the man is entirely help- 
less and would die if not relieved. The more fleshy he is, the more severe 
is the punishment. 

I have repeatedly bucked Bailey, a man of my company, by order of an 
officer, and placed him in the hot sun for si.'c and eight hours at a time. 
On one occiision, w-hile he was thus bucked, I released him to attend to 
an imperative caU. The officer discovered it and demanded my reasons 
for it. 



478 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

"By the Lord, sir!" said he, when I had told him, "I have a notion to 
eerve you in the same way." 

I answered that I thought I was doing right. 

" By the Lord, sir ! " he again rejoined, " you have no right to thinli ! — 
there are others to think for you." 

The next day, he asked me if I had attended to a certain matter. I re- 
plied, "I did not think of it." 

"Not think !" exclaimed he, "what have you a head for, if it is not to 
think ? " 

I told him then that yesterday ha said " I had no right to think !" At 
this he flew into an awful passion, and swore he would reduce me to the 
ranks. This is only one of the numberless instances of the abuse and 
indignity I suffered from tyranny while in the army. It is well for him or 
any other officer, that I was not degraded by any of these disgusting pun- 
ishments. If I know my own heart, I believe I should have shot the author 
of any such brutality to my person, if I had had to wait years a chance for 
doing it. 

Sometimes, when men are bucked or suffering other punishment, they 
will yell or say something looking like defiance. In every instance of this 
nature, I have known officers to order the man to be gagged with a stick or 
the barrel-end of a bayonet, and sometimes with two bayonets. In these 
instances the stick or bayonet is thrust into the mouth between the teeth 
away to the root of the tongue ; strings are then fastened to the front of the 
Btick or bayonet, and tied taut to the back of the neck. The man thus 
gagged is incapable of uttering a word. I have seen men with their thumbs 
fastened together by a string — the other end of the string slipped over a 
nail or peg driven so high that the jjoor fellows, with arms stretched over 
their heads, have been obliged to stand on tiptoe, and, even in that position, 
to bear a great part of their weight on their thumbs. When in this cruel 
posture, I have known officers so hard-hearted as to walk away regardless 
of the most piteous cries for mercy. 

I have seen good old soldiers, that had been in the service of their coun- 
try for upward of twenty years, punished for some little indiscretion by 
some young officer, just graduated from West Point, who wanted to show 
his authority, and who himself was, at the very moment, reeling from the 
previous night's debauch. I witnessed at Taoubaya, in the main plaz.a, 
Bome men of the Fifth Infantry tied to heavy pieces of wood in the form of 
a cross, with their arms stretched out and then laid on their backs, with 
their faces to the burning sun of Mexico : there they remained until many 
of them had to be carried to the hospital in a fainting condition. I have 
known many men in good health to be punished in some of these ways, to 
be taken sick immediately after, be carried to the hospital, and then not to 
come from thence until they were carried out feet foremost. Who were 
their murderers ? 

llow much was there I never saw ! Bitterly have I heard men complain 
of their officers, when on guard with me out of officers' hearing. Many a 
man have I heard say, "Well, I will never rush in and fight and hurra so 
hard again to brevet a scoundrel, that abuses me as some of our officers do." 
Those tyrannical officers sometimes get what they deserve from their own 



OF AMERICANS. 47<) 

mon in time of battle — a bullet in their bodies. I relate an iust.ince I knew 
of, in which, I believe, an ofScer fell a victim to the revenge of one of his 
men. 

On the 18th of August, 1847, the army arrived at San Augustine. That 
evening some of the men imbibing too freely of muscal, became very noisy. 
Among these was one Keith, an excellent soldier, but of such a tempera- 
ment, when in the least intoxicated, that he was as bereft of reason as a 
maniac. Ho fell under the notice of Captain Ferguson, for so shall we here 
call this officer, it being injudicious, in a matter of this kind, to give the 
true name. This officer was naturally hasty in disposition and harsh in en- 
forcing discipline. He ran over to where Keith was, and ordered him to be 
quiet. The latter, overstepping all military discipline, retaliated with impu- 
dent words. Ferguson should have waited until the man was sober before 
he called him to an account ; but forgetting he had an intoxicated man to 
deal with, he drew his sword and strucic the soldier across the back with 
the flat of it. Keith upon this sprang to grapple with the captain, but was 
stopped by the interference of the bystanders, and then carried to the 
guard-house. While on his way there, he shouted out at the top of his 
voice, " I '11 kill that Captain Ferguson, if I have to wait ten years for the 
chance." Ferguson heard the threat, knew the revengeful disposition of 
Keith, and feared the result. 

The division, the next day, was ordered to advance against the enemy, 
and as Keith was not confined by order of court-martial, Ferguson, accord- 
ing to the rules on such occasions, was obliged to order his release from con- 
finement, so he could take part in the action which ensued at Churubusco. 
Ferguson, knowing his peril from this man, selected two of his company 
whom he supposed to be friendly, and secretly instructed them, when they 
got into battle, to closely watch Keith, and if tliey saw him raise his mus- 
ket and aim at him, to shoot him down. 

A second thought would have shown Captain Ferguson the futility of 
this measure, from the fact that men in battle have to attend to more press- 
ing business than watching each other, es[)ecially in such battles as ensued. 
For when fortifications are stormed, troops become scattered and disorgan- 
ized, and lose sight of everything in tlie confusion, smoke, and wild excite- 
ment of the fight. And such would be the very moment that a man, if so 
inclined, would select to murder an officer. I rather think that in the 
storming process those two men found they had enough to do to watch the 
enemy, and did not give much if any thought to the personal safety of 
either Ferguson or Keith. 

As it happened, both officer and man came out of this fight unharmed, 
and nothing more wiis said or thought of this nlattor by the men until after 
the hard-fought battle of Moliuo del Key. In tlie meautime Keith was 
known to repeat his threat that he would some day kill his cai)tain. Fer- 
guson heard of it, and when the order was given to attack tlie jMolino, he 
a^ain instructed his two men to watch the malignant private. Well, the 
troops went in, and the battle was fought ; Captain Ferguson was shot by 
a musket ball dead upon the field, but Keith was missing. The general 
impression in the company, in view of all the circumstances, was, that 
Keith killed Ferguson and then fled to the interior of the country, for ho 



4S0 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

w:is never seen nor benrJ of afterward, either living or dead. If the im- 
pression was true, then the poor ofScer received an awful punishment for 
his hasty temper, when he fell a victim to the revenge of the soldier. 

While \vc were at Taoubaya, several expeditions were gotten up to visit 
different parts of the country adjacent to the Valley of Mexico. One of 
these parties visited the English silver mines ; another climbed to the top 
of Popocatapetl, looked down into its crater, planted, and left the American 
flag floating on its summit. I never had the good luck to go with any of 
these parties. I longed to do so, and, begging for permission, was denied. 
What do officers care for a soldier's wants or feelings in such matters — they 
don't suppose it is possible for a soldier to have a laudable curiosity in these 
wonders of nature, or any philosophical ideas on any subject ; he can't be 
anything else than a mere brute — a two-legged machine solely of use in the 
purposes of war. 

At our camp. Worth thoroughly drilled the division in field maneuvers. 
He was such a splendid taotitian that it was a pleasure to drill under him. 
This thorough drill gave the army an eflSciency it never before had attained. 
We were often reviewed by Scott, when our fine appearance delighted the 
old general. The history of his arrest and trial is before the country. 
When tliis infamous farce took place, the whole regular army, with one 
united voice, cried "shame! shame!" Even the most common soldier 
knew that it all arose from the meanest jealousy of the laurels of the gal- 
lant old chieftain. When he was summoned away on bis trial, the mingled 
indignation and sorrow of our men was intense. For my own part, I am 
not ashamed to confess it, I sat down and cried. Why, I can hardly state; 
but I loved the old general like a father, and when he was thus insulted 
and wronged, I felt that through him the whole army, down to the most 
humble soldier, was also insulted and wronged. 

In the month of May it was known we were to have peace. As I had 
but one year more to remain in the army, I was, in a measure, indifferent 
to where I was to be ordered. On the 11th of June, 1845, peace having 
been declared, our division took up its march for Vera Cruz. As we left 
Tacubaya we were followed some distance by women and girls who had 
formed attachments with the soldiers. In manyxases where the Mexican 
girls had formed connections with the men, the latter had promised to re- 
main behind in the country, and marry them. Many were the sad hearts 
and streaming eyes among those Mexican maidens as we took up our line 
of march. Doubtless the sorrows of numbers of the poor creatures had a 
reality about them, that partook largely of the future. Twiggs' division 
was followed by some of those trusting girls even to Vera Cruz, in hopes 
that the men of their aflfeotions would desert and remain behind. A few 
did, but the majority of the poor things were doomed to disappointment. 

On arriving at Puebla, we found the melancholy effects of the siege 
jilainly shown in the shattered dwellings and dilapidated air spread over 
everything. This event had taken place just after the surrender of Mexico, 
when Santa Anna, in his flight, stopped before the city, and with the rem- 
nants of his army, summoned Colonel Childs, who was there guarding the 
sick, to surrender. The Mexican was as unfortunate in the result as on all 
previous occasions when he encountered the American arras. 



OF AMKRICANS. 4S1 

At Peroto we remained one day. There, just outside of the castle, was 
presented to our view a sad sight — the newly-made graves of nearly a thou- 
sand of our countrymen : the hardships of the campaigns and the climato 
of Mexico were more fatal to our arms than Mexican valor. More than 
twenty thousand Am iricans perished in our war with Mexico, and of these 
less than two thousand were killed in battle, according to the statistics given 
ic Mansfield's history. My regiment, the Fourth Infantry, lost one hundred 
and eight men by disease, and only thirty-five in battle. The statistics of 
most wars give similar results. Disease is a worse foe to the soldier than 
gunpowder. 

On nearing the Black Pass, we saw the ruins of cabins, the relics of a 
fight Captain Walker had there with some Mexican guerrillas. He hung 
the prisoners and burnt their habitations. Not many days after, in ascend- 
ing a little rise of ground we came in sight of Vera Cruz from which we 
were only a few miles distant. The soldiers at this gave a spontaneous 
shout, "that is the Gulf — look, see the ships !" they exclaimed, and then 
hurried on, imagining they were almost home. 

On the 16th of Juh', 1848, our regiment embarked on board a steamship 
and left the soil of Mexico forever. Only a little more than sixteen mouths 
had elapsed since we had landed on this coast, and yet how changed we 
were ! Many of our comrades that had entered with us, full of life and 
vigor, had yielded to inexorable fate, and laid down their bones in an ene- 
my's country, unknown and uncared-for — there to mingle their dust with 
the lava of ancient volcanoes in the land of the ancient Aztec sun-worship- 
ors. Thej' filled no dishonorable graves : at the call of their country, they 
had fought, suffered, bled, and died. As millions upon millions of the 
human race had done before them, they fell victims to the insatiable Demon 
of War. 

How many faces could tliere be counted of that regiment, that on the 
23d of July, 1815, had embarked at New Orleans on board the old ship 
Sophia ? Not over fifty out of the four hundred. Death, by battle and by 
disease, had wasted us away. How changed were the survivors ! Instead 
of the bright eye of youth, and the full cheeks betokening vigorous hcallh, 
what did we behold ? An, emaciated, cadaverous-looking band, with sunken, 
sickly faces, and frames reduced to little more than skeletons. I had per- 
sonally escaped every peril, and still live to write this narrative ; but at this 
lapse of time, considering how our constitutions were shattered by our trials, 
it is doubtful if a dozen of my old comrades are this day alive. 

On the 23d of July, just three years, to a day, from the time we left New 
Orleans, we landed at E:xst Pascagoula, Mississippi. Why the troops were 
ever sent to this i)art of the country, I never could understand ; for a more 
unhealthy spot does not exist. The land was low and sand\-, and the only 
way we could procure water was by sinking barrels in the ground. The 
water was brackish, of a vile taste, which it got from the roots of trees of 
the adjoining pine forests. The dysentery and other diseases carried off 
our men like the rot with sheep. The steward of the hospital told mo 
that, out of the part of the army stationed there, over four hundred died. 
Many of our men here deserted : they were driven to it by the hardship.1 
they endured — poor fare, hard work, disease, and the dismal prospect of the 



482 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

future. Among these was Sergeant Howard, in whose bosom still festered 
the great wrong by which he was deprived of his commission. The soldier 
swears to faithfully serve his country for the period of his enlistment ; but 
if his country is false to her duty to him, he is morally absolved from bia 
obligation. We were here once visited by General Taylor, then a candi- 
date for the Presidency. 

In October, we left for New Orleans. Our regiment was to go from thenco 
to the Northern Lakes. On arriving at that city, we found that, instead of 
ascending the Mississippi, we were to go around by sea to New York. Well, 
a steamer took us down to the ship. What was our astonishment to find 
that it was the very same old hulk, the Sophia, in which we bad left New 
Orleans for Texas, three years before. When I looked up and saw this same 
old lousy, filth}-, miserable vessel, I fairlj' groaned. Is it possible, thought 
I, that there are officers who have no more feeling for the poor soldier than 
this ! We clambered aboard and found the ship in a dismal condition : it 
had not been washed or in any manner cleaned. It was the general remark 
of the men that they believed that, now the war was ended, the government 
designed to drown us. It will be asked why this was so ? — why better 
ships were not provided ? The answer is, that this old hulk could be hired 
for a mere song, and so enlarge the profits of some rascally contractor, who 
wielding political influence at Washington, was too important a personage 
not to be allowed to cheat in all possible ways, by those of our rulers who 
do so love the dear people. 

On the morning of the 7th, when we had, been out two days, on going 
on deck I found the sky overcast with masses of heavy black clouds, and 
the wind increasing every moment. It now occurred to me that we had not 
had our equinoctial storm, and, sure as could be, this was it. The stench 
was so horrible between decks, that I determined not to pass another night 
there ; so I clambered on top of a pile of boxes that had been lashed .against 
the cabin, took an old sail and placed it into a vacant space there, and wrap- 
ping myself up in my blanket, found I was very comfortably fixed. Just 
then Twitmiller, a man of G company, came on deck : I saw he was dis- 
gusted with things below, and I said : 

" Twitmiller, how are the folks down in ?" 

" My heavens ! " said he, " it is , sure enough, and if I can find any 

place here, I will not go down there again." 

He was a clever fellow, and, taking compassion on him, I invited him to 
come up and share my berth with me. We then vowed that not another 
6oul should come near us, and so kept the place to ourselves the rest of the 
voyage. About the fifth d.ay out, the storm had increased to such a degreo 
that we were obliged to hold on to something for fear of either being washed 
overboard or falling headlong from our position. It seemed evident that 
the masts must be cut away, and two men stood ready with axes for that 
purpose. The air was so full of spray that, at the middle of the day, it 
was of a twilight darkness. On the eighth day, the rudder got out of order, 
and the vessel became nearly unmanageable. We had been so long without 
an observation that our captain had lost his reckoning. On the morning of 
the ninth, everything looked exceodingh' gloomy. We had nothing to 
eat for si.K days but hard biscuit, and it was beginning to tell upon our men. 



OF AMERICANS. 483 

One soldier was found dead tins movning, iuul by nine o'cloclc anollier died. 
The captain of the ship expressed himself as utterly at loss to Unow what 
to do ; he said we must be near the coast of Cuba, and that if wo escaped 
foundering, we were in imminent danger of being thrown upon the rocUs. 
The waves exceeded in violence everything that I ever saw or read of. 
About noon the man on looUout shouted, in a very excited and loud voice, 
"Island of rocks, ixnd breakers on the lee shore!" At this the captain ran 
forward, and throwing up his glass to liis eye, ho steadied himself .against 
the mainm,ist, and for a moment looked .at the dangerous object, and as 
soon as he saw it he turned deathly pale and yelled to the crew to " about 
ship." Now this Wiis a hard business to do with a broken rudder, but linally 
ihej- man.aged to accomplish it and thus escaped the danger. In the 
afternoon we passed the hull of a large vessel, bottom up — and another sol- 
dier died. During these days of suffering the officers kept themselves sluit 
up in the cabin, and in the course of that night, one of them, Lieutenant 
Perry, .also died. Ah ! but th.at w.as a long and dreadful night. I could 
see the ship make every plunge. About four o'clock in the morning, I was 
certain that our time had come : such fearful lurches as the ship made, I 
never dreamed of. At this juncture wo shipped a tremendous sea, which 
went all over the vessel and nearly washed us away. 

" We are gone ! " exclaimed my companion. 

" I guess so ! " I replied, and had no sooner uttered the words than there 
came another sea, if possible, still more terrible than the former. I thought it 
was the last — that we should sink the next moment. I thought it very 
hard, that now we had got through the perils of the war and expected to 
take things easy, it was only to find speedy graves beneath the waters of the 
Gulf of Mexico. After this the waves did not seem to be so high as that — 
.t was the parting salute. By throe o'clock in the afternoon, the sky was 
clear, the wind began to die away, and the next morning we were becalmed. 
A steam-tug, that came out to search for w-recks, found us and towed us 
back to New Orleans. 

1 was at this time very much reduced in health, and obtained a furlough 
of a month. I was glad to get off the ship. The first thing I did, was to 
go to a hotel, take a bath, and clean myself thoroughly. 1 then put on a 
clean suit, and casting those I had worn into the street, saw a rag-picker 
seize them, and that was the last view I h.ad of the "old duds." I was 
weak, very weak, but felt like a new being. I then engaged a passage on a 
steamer for Cincinnati, and there met with an accident that grieved me more 
than .anything since I enlisted : my trunk was broken open, my clothing 
and thirty-nine dollars stolen. This, however, did not trouble me. It w;is 
the loss of my journal that I had kept all the time I was in tlie army. It 
was a faithful narrative of all my m.arches, battles, and other incidents 
through the whole Mexican Wiir. In it was noted each day's transactions, 
and to me it was invaluable. I had carried it through thick and thin, and 
had held on to it when everything else was thrown away. Had the thief 
only returned it, I would not have said a word about the money and the 
clothing. 

At the expiration of my furlough, I rejoined my company at Fort Niagara. 
I remained in the service until December of 1819, in tlie muatiwhile nar- 



4S-i ADVENTUliES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

rowly escaping death from tlio cliolera. The period of 1113' eulistmeut then 
expired ; my colonel made out my discharge, and, as he handed it to me, 
he said : 

" Sergeant Reeves, here is your discharge. You are honorably discharged 
from the service of the United States. You have been a good soldier-; 
you have conducted yourself honorably, and done your duly to your coun- 
try. May j'ou prosper wherever you go, and the lesson that you have ex- 
perienced, the last five years, be such that you will never regret it." 

The lieutenant made out my papers, which amounted to over two hun- 
dred dollars. I then shook hands with the officers ; going to the quarters, 
I did the same with the men, and then bade farewell to the army forever. 
Thus ended mj^ experience in the service of my country. I had gone 
through the perils of many battles without a wound, onlj' a few years later 
to have my right arm blown off by the premature discharge of a can- 
non on a Fourth of July celebration ; so that this narrative is of necessity 
a left-handed production. 



As tho reader has finished this article, it is to be inferred that a few lines 
additional, in explanation, will be agreeable. Some few months since, we 
accidentally fell in with a young man who had been in our army five years, 
embracing in tliat period that of our war with Mexico, and whose descrip- 
tive faculty appeared such that we at once engaged him to write a narrative 
of his adventures. The result was a very'copious record, which we have 
here presented in a much abridged form — the original comprising nearly 
five hundred manuscript pages. We think it will be judged a vivid sketch. 
It is drawn from nature, and when that is faithfully copied, it will be found 
to interest, especially in a department of human experience so varied and 
eicitiDg as that of the life of a soldier in time of war. 



NARRATIVE 



OF THE 

AMERICAN ARCTIC EXPEDITION, 

IN SEARCH OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN, 
DNDER TIIE COMMAND OF 

DR. ELISHA KENT KANE. U. S. N. 



No American ever so suddenly or more deservedly achieved a wide repu- 
tation, than did the late Dr. Kane. Uis character combined a rare union of 
intellectual and moral qualities, which being signally shown in a great mis- 
sion of benevolence and j^eril, drew the attention of all men, so that he at 
once attained universal regard. He was a scholar and at the same time an 
adventurer ; to the loftiest intrepidity he united the most shrinking modesty. 
Possessing a delicate frame, rajiidly crumbling under disease, an indomitable 
will enabled him to conquer hardships and sufl'erings under which the strong- 
est sank. When his assigned task was performed and his great mission 
ended, then he, too, perished, young in years, but destined to be old in 
fame, and leaving this lesson to his countrymen — By greatness of deeds, and 
not by time, is the work of life to be measured. 

To the very many who possess his "modest and thrilling narrative," 
what wd give here will be superfluous. An outline history, from pub- 
lished sources, is all that can come within our compass to present of that 
American Expedition to the cold and icy north, in which was blended, on 
the part of its commander, so much of heroism, self-reliance, genius, and 
enterprise. 

Sir John Franklin, whose fate has been the object of such solicitude, was 
one of the most intrepid of Arctic explorers. lie sailed from the shores of 
England, for the last time, in May, 18t5. Two ships, the Erebus and the 
Terror, manned by one hundred and thirty-eight select, resolute, and expe- 
rienced seamen, composed the vessels and forces under his command. Tlie 
ships were the best vessels, and the best provided, that had ever breasted 
the ice and storms of the far north. The objects of the expedition were the 
survey of the northwest coast of America, and the accomplishment of a 
northwest passage, along the same coast, from the waters of the Atlantic 
into those of the Pacific Ocean. They had abundant provisions for three 
years. On the 26th of July, a litlJe more than two months after their de- 
parture, they were seen by a wdialor moored to an iceberg, waiting for an 
openin" through the vast body of ice which extends along the middle of 



486 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Baffin's Bay, to prosecuts their voyage. Since tlien no human oya has 
been Icnown to rest upon either of the ships of this unfortunate expedition. 
Possibly some unhappy survivors may yet be lingering out a miserable ex- 
istence on the shores of that great sea which, for ages unseen and unknown 
by man, has been tossing in fury under the storms of the farthest north. 
It is more probable that every soul, long since, has perished, and that the 
fate of Sir John Franklin and his hapless crews will ever remain, in the an- 
nals of human adventure, one of the most melancholy of all uiysteries. 

Toward the close of the year 1847, the people of England began to bo 
alarmed in regard to the fate of Franklin. Three expeditious were 
promptly dispatched in search of him. Returning unsuccessful, others and 
still others were sent out on this great errand of humanity, covering a series 
of many years and an expenditure of more than four millions of dollars. 
All was of no avail. The first winter quarters of Franklin were, however, 
discovered on Beeohy Island by a few relics, among which were the graves 
of three of his men. The opinion was also then formed that Sir John had 
passed with his vessels through Wellington Channel into the great Polar 
Sea beyond, away north of the point of intense cold, where the milder tem- 
perature and the existence of many forms of animal life to serve for food 
gave the hope that he might yet have been living. Later, in March, 1854, 
Dr. Rae, at the head of an overland expedition of the Hudson Bay Com- 
pany, met some Esquimaux at Pelly Bay, from whom he obtained several 
articles which were identified as belonging to various members of Sir John 
Franklin's party. 

The possession of these articles by the Esquimaux was accounted for by 
a story which is related in the following extract from Dr, Rae's journal, 
published soon after his arrival in England : " On the morning of the 2C-th 
we were met by a very intelligent Esquimaux, driving a dog-sledge laden 
with musk-ox beef. This man at once consented to accompany us two 
days' journey, and in a few minutes had deposited his load on the snow, 
and was ready to join us. Having explained to him my object, he said that 
the road by which he had come was the best for us ; and, having lightened 
the men's sledges, we traveled with more facility. We were now joined by 
another of the natives, who had been absent seal-hunting yesterday, but, 
being anxious to see us, had visited our snow-house early this morning, and 
then followed up our track. This man was very communicative, and, on 
putting to him the usual questions as to his having seen 'white man' be- 
fore, or any ships or boats, he replied in the negative ; but said that a party 
of ' Kabloomans' had died of starvation a long distance to the west of 
where we then were, and beyond a large river. He stated that he did not 
know the exact place, that he never had been there, and that he could not 
accompany us so far. The substance of the information then and subse- 
quently obtained from various sources was to the following effect : 

In the spring, four winters past (1850), while some Esquimaux famil.es 
were killing seals near the north shore of a large island, named in Arrow- 
smith's charts King William's Land about forty white men were seen travel- 
ing in company southward over the ice, and dragging a boat and sledges 
with them. They were passing along the west shore of the above-named 
island. None of the party could speak the Esquimaux language so well as 



OF AMERICANS. 487 

to be understooil, but by signs tbe natives were led to believe that the ship 
or ships had been crushed by ice, aud that they were now going to where 
they expected to find deer to shoot. From the appearance of the men — all 
of whom, with the exception of an ofScer, were hauling on the drag-ropes 
of the sledge, and looked thin — they were then supposed to be getting short 
of provisions; aud they purchased a .small seal, or piece of seal, from the 
natives. The officer was described as being a tall, stout, middle-aged man. 
When their day's journey terminated, they pitched tents to rest in. 

At a later date the same season, but previous to the disruption of the ice, 
the corpses of some thirty persons and some graves were discovered on the 
continent, and five dead bodies on an island near it, about a long day's jour- 
ne}' to the nortiiwest of the mouth of a large stream, which can be no other 
than Back's Great Fish River (named by the Esquimaux Oot-koo-hi-ca-Iik), 
as its description and that of the low shore in the neighborhood of Point 
Ogle and Montreal Island agree exactly with that of Sir George Back. 
Some of the bodies were in a tent, or tents ; others were under the boat, 
which had been turned over to form a shelter ; and some lay scattered about 
in diflforent directions. Of those seen on the island, it was supposed that 
one was that of an officer (chief), as he had a telescope strapped over his 
shoulder.s, and a double-barreled gun lay underneath him. 

From the mutilated state of many of the bodies, and the contents of the 
kettles, it is evident that our wretched countrymen had been driven to the 
dread alternative of cannibalism as a means of sustaining life. A few of the 
unfortunate men must have survived until the arrival of the wild-fowl (say 
until the end of May), as shots were heard, and fresh bones and feathers of 
geese were noticed near the scene of the sad event. 

There appears to have been an abundant store of ammunition, as the gun- 
powder was emptied by the natives in a heap on the ground out of the kegs 
or cases containing it, and a quantity of shot and ball was found below 
high-water mark, having probably been left on the ice close to the beach 
before the spring commenced. There must have been a number of tele- 
scopes, guns (several of them double-barreled), watches, compasses, etc., 
all of which seem to have been broken up, as I saw pieces of these diffe- 
rent articles with the natives, and I purchased as many as possible, together 
with some silver spoons and forks, an Order of Merit in the form of a star, 
and a small silver plate engraved ' Sir John Franklin, K. C. B.' 

Dr. Uae concludes b}- expressing the opinion that no violence had been 
offered to the sufferers by the natives, but that they were starved to death. 
The following is a list of the articles obtained from the Esquimaux : One 
silver table-fork — crest, an animal's head with wings extended above; 
three silver table-forks — crest, a bird with wings extended ; one silver table- 
„poon— crest, with initials ' F. R. M. C (Captain Crozier, Terror); one silver 
table-spoon and one fork — crest, bird with laurel-branch in mouth, motto, 
'Spero meliora ;' one silver table-spoon, one tea-spoon, and one dessert- 
fork— crest, a fish's head looking ujiward, with laurel-branches on each side ; 
one silver table-fork— initials, 'II. D. R. G.' (Harry 1). S. Goo<lsir, assistant- 
Burgeon, Erebus); one silver table-fork— initials, 'A. WD: (Alexander 
M'Donald, assistant surgeon. Terror); one silver table- fork— initials, 'G. A. 
M.' (Gillies A. Macbean, second master, Terror); one silver table-fork- 



4S8 ADVENTURES AKD ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

initials, 'J. T. ;' one silver dessert-spoon— initials, 'J. S. P.' (Jolin S. Pud- 
die, surgeon, Erebus); a round silver plate, engraved, 'Sir John Franklin, 
K. C. B. ; ' a star or order, with motto, 'Nee aspera terrenf, G. R. III. 
MDCCCXV.' 

On obtaining the above information, Dr. Rae instantly hastened to Eng- 
land, for the purpose of preventing any further expeditions being dispatched 
in search of the lost navigators. His report, as might have been expected, 
was subjected on all hands to criticism and comment. Many were of 
opinion that the information obtained did not warrant the conclusion that 
the whole party was lost. Some of the criticisms made on his report in- 
duced Dr. Rae to take up the pen in self-defense ; and in a letter which he 
addressed to the editor of the London Times, we find the following remarks, 
which ^ome with great weight from one who, of all others, is most compe- 
tent to speak authoritively. They were written in reply to an attack 
made upon him by a gentleman who had a relative with the lost expedi- 
tion, and serve to show how difficult it is to. form a correct judgment on 
subjects of which wo have not had personal experience. 

"It is asked by your correspondent," says Dr. Rae, "' where Esquimaux 
can live, where Dr. Eae's party could find abundant means, wdiat should 
prevent Sir John Franklin and his party from subsisting too ?' 

No man but one perfectly unacquainted with the subject could ask such 
a question. At the season when Sir John Franklin's party was seen travei- 
ing over the ice, the seal-holes are covered by snow, and can only be 
discovered by the acute sense of smell of the native dogs ; and, after the 
seal-hole is discovered, much patience, experience, and care are requisite to 
kill the seal. As soon as the snow thaws (say in June) the seals show 
themselves on the ice ; but they are then so difficult of ajiproach that not 
one of my men (Ouglibuck, the interpreter, excepted), although they often 
made the attempt, could approach near enough to shoot any of these 
animals. 

I wintered at a part of the Arctic coast remarkable by its geographical for- 
mation for the abundance of deer during the autumn migrations, but only 
then ; and it was at that time that we laid up oiir winter btock of food ; but 
it was hard w-ork even for us (all practiced sportsmen, picked men, and in full 
strength and training) to collect a sufficiency. 

That portion of country near to and on which a portion of Sir John 
Franklin's party was seen is, in the spring, notoriously the most barren of 
animal life of any of the Arctic shores ; and the few deer that may be seen 
are generally very shy, from having been hunted during the winter by In- 
dians, on the borders of the woodlands. To prove this scarcity of game, I 
may add, that during my spring journey of fifty-sis days' duration, one 
deer only and a few partridges were shot by us. 

It is asked by your correspondent, 'Why the unfortunate men should 
have encumbered themselves with silver forks and spoons and silver 
plates ?' etc. The total weight of the silver forks and spoons could not be 
more than four or five pounds at the utmost, and would not appear much 
when divided among forty persons ; and any officer who has ever had the 
misfortune to abandon his ship or boat anywhere, but more particularly in 
the Arctic sea, knows how apt men are to encumber themselves with articles 



OF AMERIIVNS. 



489 



far more useless and bulky than a few forks and .spoons. I suppose, by 
'silver plates,' your correspondent alludes to the silver plate with Sir John 
Franklin's name engraved thereon, and which may possibly weigh half an 
ounce — no great addition to a man's load. 

Again, your correspondent says, 'that the ships have been abandoned, and 
pillaged by the Esquimaux.' In this opinion I perfectly agree so far as the 
abandonment of the ships, but not that the ships were jiillaged by the na- 
tives. Had this been the case, wood would have been abnudant among 
these jjoor people. It was not so, and they were reduced to the necessity 
of making their sledges of musk-ox skins folded up and frozen together — 
an alternative to which the want of wood alone could have reduced them. 
Another proof that the natives had very little wood among them may bo 
adduced. Before leaving Repulse Bay, I collected together some of the 
most respectable of the old Esquimaux, and distributed among them all the 
wood we could spare, amounting to two or three oars and some broken 
polea. When these things were delivered to them, I bade the Esquimaux 
interpreter, who speaks both his own .ind the English language fluently, to 
ask whether they or their .acquaintances near Pelly Bay had now most 
wood. They all immediately shouted out, holding up their hands, that 
they themselves had most. I need scarcely add that, had the ships been 
found by the Esquimaux, a stock of wood sufficient for many years for all 
the natives within an extent of several hundred miles would have been 
obtained." 

This evidence shows the fate of thirty-five of Franklin's men ; but there 
were yet one hundred and three to be accounted for, together with the ships, 
and these remained involved in as much mystery as ever. 

Sympathy is one of the greatest of human impulses, and when united to 
curiosity and a spirit of adventure, it leads to the truest heroism. These 
protracted searches aroused the sympathy of other nations, and two succcs- 
hive expeditions were dispatched from our own young country to aid in the 
search for the long-lost mariners. 

The first American Expedition left New York in May, 1850. It was sent 
out by Mr. Henry Grinnell, an opulent merchant of that city, and is known 
ns the "-First Grinnell Expedition." It consisted of two small brigs, the 
Advance and the Hescue, under the command of Lieutenant E. De Haven, a 
young naval ofiicer. Ur. E. K. Kane was surgeon and naturalist, and wrote 
a history of the expedition which, after a variety of adventure, returned in 
a little less than sixteen months. 

The "Second Grinnell Expedition," popularly known as "Kane's Expe- 
dition," sailed from New York, May 30th, 1853. It consisted of a single 
vessel, the Advance, a small brig of one hundred and forty-four tuns burden, 
furnished by Mr. Grinnell. The expenses were contributed b}' various so- 
cieties and individuals, among the latter of whom was Mr. Peabody, the 
eminent London batdier, originally from Massachusetts. Dr. Kane, the 
commander, had under him eighteen chosen men, all young, and mostly 
less than thirty years of life. 

" The specific features of Dr. Kane's plan of research consisted in m.aKmg 
the land-masses of the north of Greenland the basis of operations, assuming, 
from the analogies of geographical structure, that Greeidand was to bo 



490 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

regarded as a peninsula approacliing the vicinity of the pole, rather than a 
congeries of islands connected by interior glaciers. On this h3-pothesis, the 
course was to pass up Baffin's Bay to the most northern attainable point, and 
thence, pressing «n toward the Pole, as far as boats or sledges could reach, 
to esamino the coast-lines for vestiges of the lost party. The equijiment 
for the expedition was simple. A quantity of rough boards to serve for 
housing the vessel in winter, some India-rubber and canvas tents, and seve- 
ral strong sledges, built on a convenient model, completed the outfit. For 
provisions, they took a liberal supply of 2)emmican, a parcel of Borden's 
meat biscuit, some packages of prepared potato, a store of dried fruits 
and vegetables, b(.-side pickled cabbage, the salt beef and pork of the navv 
ration, hard biscuit and flour. A moderate supply of liquors made up the 
bill of fiire, although the party were pledged to total abstinence from this 
article, unless dispensed by special order. 

In a month after leaving New York, and on the 1st of July, the Advance 
arrived at the harbor of Fiskernaes, in Greenland, among the clamor of its 
entire population assembled on the rooks to greet them. From thence they 
proceeded gradually along the coast, until the 27th of July, when they 
neared the entrance of Melville Bay. Here they encountered their first se- 
rious obstruction from the ice ; Dr. Kane promptly decided to attempt a 
passage through the bay by a new track ; and after a rough transit of eight 
days, the wisdom of the plan was confirmed by its success. In less than a 
week they entered Smith's Sound, and landing near Littleton's Island, de- 
posited a boat with a supply of stores, with the view of securing a retreat 
in case of disaster. lie says : 

" We found to our surprise that we were not the first human beings who 
had sought a shelter in this desolate spot. A few ruined walls here and 
there showed that it had once been the seat of a rude settlement ; and in 
the little knell which we cleared away to cover in our storehouse of valu- 
I'bles, we found the mortal remains of their former inhabitants. 

Nothing can be imagined more sad and homeless than these memorials 
of extinct life. Hardly a vestige of growth was traceable on the bare ice- 
rubbed rocks ; and the huts resembled so much the broken fragments that 
surrounded them, that at first sight it was hard to distinguish one from the 
other. Walrus bones lay about in all directions, showing that this animal 
had furnished the staple of subsistence. There were some remains too of 
the fox and the narwhal ; but I found no signs of the seal or reindeer. 

These Esquimaux have no mother earth to receive their dead ; but they 
seat them as in the attitude of repose, the knees drawn close to the body, 
and inclose them in a sack of skins. The impilements of the living man 
are then grouped around him ; they are covered with a rude dome of stones, 
and a cairn is piled above. This simple cenotaph will remain intact for 
generation after generation. The Esquimaux never disturb a grave." 

On the western cape of Littleton Island, they erected a cairn, which 
might serve as a beacon to any following party, wedged a staff, into the cre- 
vices of the rocks, and spreading the American flag, hailed its folds with 
three cheer.-, as they expanded in the cold midnight breeze. They imme- 
diately resumed their course, beating toward the north against wind and 
tido, and soon arriving at the regions of thick-ribbed ice, wliere they were 



OF AMERICANS. 49] 

compelled to moor their vessel to the rocks. Among the petty miseries 
which they uow began to suffer, was a pack of some fifty dogs, which 
formed a very inconvenient appendage to tha traveling party. These ani- 
mals were voracious as wolves. It was no easy matter to supply such a 
hungry family with food. They devoured a couple of bears in eight days. 
Two pounds of raw flesh every other day was a scanty allowance ; but to 
obtain this was almost impossible. The pemmican could not be spared — 
corn-meal or beans they would not touch — and salt junk would have killed 
them. The timely discovery of a dead narwhal or unicorn proved an ex- 
cellent relief, aflbrding six hundred pounds of good wholesome flesh, 
though of a rather unsavory odor. 

But a more serious trial was at hand. The vessel had been released from 
her moorings, and had fought her way through the ice for several days, 
when the sky gave tokens of an approaching storm. On the 20th of Au- 
gust, the tempest came on with unmistakable Arctic fury. Its effects can 
be described in no other words than those of the journal of the dauntless 
commander : 

"By Saturday morning it blew a perfect hurricane. We had seen it 
coming, and were ready with three good hawsers out ahead, and all things 
snug on board. Still it came on heavier and heavier, and the ice began to 
drive more wildly than I thought I had ever seen it. I had just turned in 
to warm and dry myself during a momentary lull, and was stretching my- 
self out in my bunk, when I heard the sharj) twanging snap of a cord. 
Our six-inch hawser had parted, and we were swinging by the two others ; 
the gale roaring like a lion to the southward. 

Half a minute more, and 'twang, twang !' came a second report. I knew 
it was the whale-line by the shrillness of the ring. Our noble ten-inch 
manilla still held on. I was hurrying my last sock into its seal-skin boot, 
when McGary came waddling down the companion-ladders: — 'Captain 
Kane, she won't hold much longer; it's blowing the devil himself, and I 
am afraid to surge.' 

The manilla cable was proving its excellence when I reached the deck ; 
and the crew, as they gathered round me, were loud in its praises. Wo 
could hear its deep Eolian chant, swelling through all the rattle of the run- 
ning gear, and moaning of the shrouds. It was the death-song ! The 
strands gave way, with the noise of a shotted gun ; and in the smoke that 
followed their recoil, wc wore dragged out by the wild ice at its mercy. 

We steadied and did some pretty warping, and got the brig a good bed in 
the rushing drift ; but it all came to nothing. We then tried to beat back 
through the narrow ice-clogged water-way, that was driving a quarter f)f a 
mile wide, between the shore and the pack. It cost us two hours of hard 
labor, I thought, .skillfully bestowed ; but at the end of that time we were 
at least four miles off, opposite the great valley in the center of Bedeviled 
Reach. Ahead of us, farther to the north, we could see the strait growing 
still narrower,, and the heavy ice-tables grinding up and clogging it between 
the shore-cliffs on one side and the ledge on the other. There was but one 
thing left for us, to keep in some sort the command of the helm, by going 
freely where we must otherwise be driven. We allowed her to scud under 
a reefed foretopsail ; all hands watching the enemy, as we closed, in silence. 



493 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

At seven in the morning wo were close upon tlie piling masses. We 
dropped our heaviest anchor, with the desperate hope of winding the brig; 
but there was no withstanding the ice-torrent that followed us. We had 
only time to fasten a spar as a buoy to the chain, and let her slip. So went 
our best bower ! 

Down we went upon the gale again, helplessly scraping along a lee of ice 
seldom less than thirty feet thick ; one floe, measured by a line, as we tried 
to fasten it, more than forty. I had seen such ice only once before, and 
never in such rapid motion. One upturned mass rose above our gunwale, 
smasliing in our bulwarks, and depositing half a tun of ice in a lump upon 
our decks. Our stanch little brig bore herself through all this wild adven- 
ture as if she had a charmed life. 

But a new enemy came in sight ahead. Directly in onr way, just beyond 
the line of floe-ice against which wo were alternately sliding and thumping, 
was a group of bergs. We had no power to avoid them ; and the only 
ipiestion was whether we were to be dashed in pieces against them, or 
whether they might not oft'er us some providential nook of refuge from the 
storm. But, as we neared them, we perceived that they were at some dis- 
tance from the floe-edge, and separated from it by an interval of open water. 
Our hopes rose, as the gale drove us toward this passage, and into it; and 
we were ready to exult when, from some unexplained cause — probably an 
eddy of the -iiid against the lofty ice-walls — we lost our headway. Almost 
at the same moment we saw that the bergs were not at rest ; that, with a 
momentum of their own, they were bearing down upon the other ice, and 
that it must be our fate to be crushed between the two. 

Just then a broad sconce-piece or low water- washed berg came driving up 
from the southward. The thought flashed upon me of one of our escapes in 
Melville Bay ; and as the sconce moved rapidly close alongside us, McGary 
managed to plant an anchor on its slope, and hold on to it by a whale-line. 
U was an anxious moment. Our noble tow-horse, whiter than the pale 
horse that seemed to be pursuing us, hauled us bravely on, the spray dash- 
ing over his windward flanks, and his forehead plowing up the lesser ice as 
if in scorn. The bergs encroached upon us as we advanced. Our channel 
narrowed to a width of perhaps forty feet ; we braced the yards to clear the 
impending ice-walls. . . . We passed clear ; but it was a close shave — 
sn close that our port quarter-boat would have been crushed if we had not 
taken it in from the davits — and found ourselves under the lee of a berg, 
in a comparatively open lead. Never did heart-tried men acknowledge 
with more gratitude their merciful deliverance from a wretched death. 

The day had already its full share of trials ; but there were more to 
come. A flaw drove us from our shelter, and the gale soon carried us beyond 
the end of the lead. We were again in the ice, sometimes escaping its on- 
set by warping, sometimes forced to rely on the strength and buoyancy of 
the brig to stand its pressure, sometimes scudding wildly through the half- 
open drift. Our jibboom was snapped off in the cap; we carried away our 
barricade stanchions, and were forced to leave our little Erie, with three 
brave fellows and their warps, out upon the floes behind us. 

A little pool of open water received us at last. It was just beyond a 
lofty cape that rose up like a wall, and under an iceberg that anchored itsell 



OF AMERICANS. i!)3 

between us ami the gale. And here, close iimlcr the frownhig shore of 
Greenlaiui, ten miles nearer the pole than our hokling-groiiud of the morn- 
ing, the men have turned in to rest. I was afraid to join them, for the galo 
was unbroken, and the floes kept pressing heavily upon our berg — at one 
time so heavily as to sway it on its vertical axis toward the shore, and make 
its pinnacle overhang our vessel. My poor fellows had but a precarious 
sleep before our little harbor was broken up. They hardly reached the deck 
when we were driven astern, our rudder splintered, and the pintles torn from 
their boltings. 

Now began the nippings. Tlie first shock took us on our port quarter ; 
the brig bearing it well, and, after a moment of the old-fashioned suspense, 
rising by jerks handsomely. The ne.'ct was from a veteran floe, tongued and 
honeycombed, but floating in a single table over twenty feet in thickness. 
Of course, no wood or iron could stand this ; but the shoreward face of our 
iceberg happened to present an inclined plane, descending deep into the 
water, and up this the brig was driven, as if some great steam screw-power 
was forcing her into a dry-dock. 

At one time I expected to see her carried bodily up its face and tumbled 
over on her side. But one of those mysterious relaxatiouii, which I have 
elsewhere called the pulses of the ice, lowered us quite gradually down 
again into the rubbish, and we were forced out of the line of pressure toward 
the shore. Here we succeeded in carrying out a warp and making fast. We 
grounded as the tide fell, and would have heeled over to seaward but for 
a mass of detached land-ice that grounded alongside of us, and although it 
stove our bulwarks as we rolled over, it shored us up." 

We must also give his account of the sequel : 

"I could hardly get to my buidt, as I went down into our littered cabin 
on the Sunday morning after our hard-working vigil of thirty-six hours. 
Ba"s of clothing, food, tents, India-rubber blankets, and the hundred little 
personal matters which every man likes to save in time of trouble, were 
scattered around in places where the owners thought they might have them 
at hand. The pemmican had been on deck, the boats equipped, and every- 
thing of real importance ready for a march, many hours before. 

During the whole of the scenes I have been trying to describe, I could 
not help being struck by the composed and manly demeanor of my com- 
rades. The turmoil of ice, under a heavy sea, often conveys the impression 
of danger when the reality is absent ; but in this fearful pa.s.sage, the p.arting 
of our hawsers, the loss of our anchors, the abrupt crushing of our stoven 
bulwarks, and the actual deposit of ice upon our decks, would have tried 
the nerves of the most experienced icemen. All — officers and men — worked 
alike. Upon each occasion of collision with the ice which formed our lee 
coast, efforts were made to carry out lines ; and some narrow escapes were 
rncurred by the zeal of the parties leading them into positions of danger. 
Mr. Bonsall avoided being crushed by leaping to a floating fragment; and 
no less than four of our men at one time were carried down by the drift, 
and could only be recovered by a relief party after the gale had subsided. 

As our brig, borne on by the ice, commenced her ascent of the berg, the 
Buspenso was oppressive. The immense blocks i)iled against her, range 
upon range, pressing themselves under her keel, and throwing her over upon 



494 ADVENTUPiES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

her side, till, urged by the successive accumulations, she rose slowly, and aa 
if with convulsive efforts, along the sloping wall. Still there was no relax- 
ation of the impelling force. Shock after shock jarring her to her very cen- 
ter, she continued to mount steadily on her precarious cradle. But for the 
groaning of her timbers, and the heavy sough of the floes, we might have 
heard a pin drop. And then, as she settled down into her old position, 
quietly taking her place among the broken rubbish, there was a deep-breath- 
iug silence, as though all were waiting for some signal before the clamor of 
congratulation and comment could burst forth." 

By the 22d of August, they had reached the latitude cf 78= 41'— a dis- 
tance greater than had been attained by any previous explorer, except Parry 
on his Spitzbergen foot-tramp. About this time, some of the party began 
to exhibit symptoms of discontent. The rapid advance of winter, the de- 
privation of rest, and the slow p>rogress of the expedition, tended to produce 
depression. One person volunteered an opinion in favor of returning to the 
south, and giving up the attempt to winter. It was no time for half-way 
measures. Dr. Kane at once called a council of his officers, and listened to 
their views in full. With but a single exception, they declared their con- 
viction that a further progress to the north was impossible, and urged the 
propriety of returning southward to winter. The commander maintained 
the opposite view. Explaining the importance of securing a position which 
might expedite future sledge journeys, he announced his intention of warp- 
ing toward the northern headland of the bay. Once there, he could deter- 
mine the best point for the operations of the spring, and would put the brig 
into winter harbor at the nearest possible shelter. His comrades received 
the decision with cheerful acquiescence, and zealously entered upon the 
perilous duties which it involved. During the process the gallant little 
vessel ran aground, and in the night had a narrow escape from fire. A 
sudden lurch tumbled the men out of their berths, and threw down the 
cabin stove, with a full charge of glowing anthracite. The deck blazed up 
violently, but by the sacrifice of a heavy pilot-cloth coat the fire was 
smothered until water could be passed down to extinguish it. The powder 
was not far off. A few moments more might have brought the expedition 
to a sudden close. 

About the 10th of September, the vessel was brought into a sheltered 
harbor between the islands of the hay, in which she had been lying for 
some time, and all bauds prepared for winter quarters. Of their mode of 
life during the long darkness of an Arctic winter, a vivid idea is given by 
the following extract from Dr. Kane's journal : 

"How do we spend the day when it is not term-day, or rather the 
twenty-four hours ? for it is either all day here, or all night, or a twilight 
mixture of both. How do we spend the twenty- four hours ? 

At six in the morning, McGary is called, with all hands who have slept 
in. The decks are cleaned, the ice-hole opened, the refreshing beef-nets 
examined, the ice-tables measured, and things aboard put to rights. At 
half-past seven all hands rise, wash on deck, open the doors for ventilation, 
and come below for breakfast. We are short of fuel, and therefore cook in 
the cabin. Our breakfast, for all fare alike, is hard tack, pork, stewed 
apples, frozen .ike molasses candy, tea and coffee, with a delicate portion 



OF AMERICANS. i'Jo 

of raw potato. After broakfast, the smokers take their pipe till nine ; then 
all hands turn to, idlers to idle and workers to work ; Ohlseu to his beucli, 
Brooks to his preparations in canvas, McGary to play tailor, Wliipple to 
make shoos, Bonsall to tinker. Baker to skin birds — and the rest to the 
' office ! ' Take a look into the Arctic Bureau. One table, one salt-pork 
lamp with rusty chlorinated flame, three stools, and as many waxen-faced 
men with their legs drawn under them, the deck at zero being too cold for 
their feet. Each has his department : Kano is writing and sketching, and 
projecting maps ; Hays copj-ing logs and nieteorologioals ; Sontag reducing 
his work at Fern Rock. A fourtii, as one of the working members of the 
hive, has long been defunct ; you will find him in bed, or studying 'ZitlcU's 
Living Age.' At twelve, a business round of inspection, and orders enough 
to fill up the day with work. Next, the drill of the Esquimaux dogs — ray 
own peculiar recreation — a dogtrot, specially referring to legs that creak 
with every kick, and rheumatic shoulders that chronicle every descent of 
the whip. And so we get on to dinner-time ; the occasion of another gath- 
ering, which misses the tea and coffee of breakfast, but rejoices in pickled 
cabbage and dried peaches instead. 

At dinner, as at breakfast, the raw potato comes in our hygienic luxury. 
Like doctor-stuff generally, it is not as appetizing as desirable. Grating it 
down nicely, leaving out the ugly red spots liberally, and adding the utmost 
oil as a lubricant, it is as much as I can do to persuade the mess to shut 
their eyes and bolt it, like Mrs. Squeers' molasses and brimstone at Dothe- 
boy's Hall. Two absolutely refuse to take it. I tell them of the Silesians 
using its leaves as spinach ; of the wh.alers in the South Seas getting drunk 
on the molasses which had preserved the large potatoes of the Azores ; I 
point to this gum, so fungoid and angry the day before yesterday, and so 
flat and amiable to-day — all by a [lotato poultice. My eloquence is wasted ; 
they persevere in rejecting the admirable compound. 

Sleep, exercise, amusement, and work at will carry on the day till our six 
o'clock supper — a meal something like breakfast and something like dinner, 
only a little more scant, and the officers come in with the reports of the 
day. Dr. Hayes shows me the log, I sign it; Sontag, the weather, I sigu. 
the weather ; Mr. Bonsall, the tides and thermometers. Thereupon comes 
in mine ancient Brooks, and I enter in his journal No. 3, all the work 
done under his charge, and discuss his labors for the morrow. 

McGary comes next with the cloaning-up arrangement, inside, outside, 
and on decks, and Mr. Wilson follows with ice measurements. And last 
of all comes my own record of the day gone by ; every line, as I look 
back upon its pages, giving evidences of a weakenevl body and a harassed 
mind. 

We have cards sometimes, and chess sometimes, and a few m.ag.T/.ines — 
Mr. Littell's thoughtful present — to cheer away the evening. 

The darkness was so intense that it necess.arily entailed inaction ; and it 
was in vain that they sought to create topics of thought, and, by a forced 
excitement, to ward off the encroachments of disease. The thermometer 
fell to ninety-nine degrees below the freezing point. Human beings could 
only breathe in such a temperature guardodl\' and with comjircssed lips. 

The influence of such severe cold and long intense darkness was most 



496 ADVEXTURES AND ACniEVEMENTS 

depressing. Most of the dogs died of affections of the brain, which begai), 
as iu the instance of some of the men of the Investigator, with fits, followed 
by lunacy, and soraotimes by lockjaw. Their disease. Dr. Kane remarks, 
was as clearly mental as in the case of anj' human being. Fift3'-seven died 
with these symptoms. The loss of his dogs seriously affected Dr. Kane's 
plans; new arrangements had to be formed, which, owing to the small- 
ness of the party, deprived of the dogs, were necessarily restricted. The 
addition of four dogs, contributed by Esquimaux, permitted the operations 
to be considerably extended. Out of nearly three thousand miles traversed, 
no less than eleven hundred were made with the dog-sledge ; and during 
the following year. Dr. Kane himself traveled fourteen hundred miles with 
a single team. 

The month of March brought back perpetual day. The sunshine had 
reached the ship on the last day of February ; they needed it to cheer 
them. The scurv}' spots, that mottled the faces of almost all, gave sore 
proof of the trials they had undergone. The crew were now (March, 1854) 
almost unfitted by debility for arduous work, and only six dogs remained 
of nine splendid Newfoundlanders and "thirty-five Esquimaux dogs. "An 
Arctic night and an Arctic day," Dr. Kane emphatically remarks, " age a 
man more rapidly and harshly than a year anywhere else in all this weary 
world." Sometimes, in their excursions over the ice, the men had to drag 
the sledge, and flounder through snow-drifts in which I hey sank at every 
step nearly over their legs. 

In order to ascertain whether it was practicable to force a way over the 
crowded bergs and mountainous ice of the frozen area toward the north. 
Dr. Kane now organized a party of the strongest men, who volunteered 
their services for the labor, placing himself at their head ; and, on the 19th 
of March, sent out an advanced corps to place a relief cargo of provisions 
at a suitable distance from the brig. On the ninth day of their absence, the 
latter encountered a heavy gale from the north-east ; the thermometer fell 
to fifty-seven degrees below zero, and the ice-ridges became so obstructed 
by snow as to prevent their depositing their stores beyond fifty miles from 
the brig. 

By the 31st, three of the members of this advance party returned to the 
Brig, swollen, haggard, and hardly able to speak. They had left four of 
their number in a tent on the ice, frozen and disabled. On being informed 
of the disaster, Dr. Kane started for the rescue with nine men, under the 
direction of Mr. Ohlsen, one of the returned party, whose previous expos- 
ure, however, had rendered his services as a guide almost useless. We will 
liere quote the commander's own graphic words : 

"We had been nearly eighteen hours out without water or food, when a 
new hope cheered us. I think it was Hans, our Esquimaux hunter, who 
thought he saw a broad sledge-track. The drift had nearly effaced it, and 
we were some of us doubtful at first whether it was not one of those acci- 
dental rifts which the gales make in the surface-snow. But, as we traced it 
on to the deep snow among the hummocks, we were led to footsteps ; and, 
following these with religious care, we at last came in sight of a small 
American flag fluttering from a hummock, and lower down, a little Masonic 
banner hanging from a tent-pole hardlv above the drift. It was the camp 



OF AMEUICaNS. 497 

of our (li,s;il)K;i.l comrades : we reached it after an uLbroken march of twenty- 
one hours. 

The little tent was nearly covered. I was not among the first to come 
up ; but, when I reached the tent-curtain, the men were standing in silent 
file on each side of it. With more kindness and delicacy of feeling than is 
often supposed to belong to sailors, but which is almost characteristic, they 
intimated their wish that I should go in alone. As I crawled in, and, com- 
ing upon the darkness, heard before me the burst of welcome gladness that 
came from the four poor fellows stretched on their backs, and then for the 
firet time tlie cheer outside, my weakness and my gratitude together almost 
overcame me. 'They had expected me ; they were sure I would come !' " 

Wo copy entire Dr. Kane's spirited account of the retreat of the party, 
now consisting of fifteen souls : 

" It was fortunate indeed that we were not inexperienced in sledging over 
the ice. A great part of our track lay among a succession of hummocks ; 
some of them extended in long lines fifteen and twenty feet high, and so 
uniformly steep that we had to turn them by a considerable deviation from 
our direct course ; others that we forced our way through, far above our 
heads in height, lying in parallel ridges, with the space between too narrow 
for the sledge to be lowered into it safely, and yet not wide enough for the 
runners to cross without the aid of ropes to stay them. These spaces too 
were generally choked with light snow, hiding the openings between the 
ice-fragments. They were fearful traps to disengage a limb from ; for every 
man knew that a fracture, or a sprain even, would cost him his life. Beside 
all this, the sledge was top-heavy with its load ; the maimed men could not 
bear to be lashed down tight enough to secure them against falling ofl'. 
Notwithstanding our caution in rejecting every superfiuous burden, the 
weight, including bags and tent, was eleven himdred pounds. 

And yet our march for the first six hours was very cheering. We made, 
by vigorous pulls and lifts, nearly a mile an hour, and reached the new fioes 
before we were absolutely weary. Our sledge sustained the trial admirably. 
Ohlsen, restored by hope, walked steadily at the leading-belt of the sledge- 
lines; and I began to feel certain of reaching our half-way station of the 
day before, where we had left our tent. But we were still nine miles from 
it, when, almost without premonition, wx all became aware of an alarming 
failure of our energies. 

I was of course familiar with the benumbed and almost lethargic sensation 
of extreme cold ; and once, when exposed for some hours in the midwinter 
of Baflin's Bay, I had experienced symptoms which 1 compared to the dif- 
fused paralysis of the electro-galvanic shock. But I had treated the skepij 
comfort of freezing as something like the embellishment of romance. I had, 
evidence now to the contrary. 

Bonsall and Morton, two of our stoutest men, came to me, begging per- 
mission to sleep; 'they were not cold : the wind did not enter them now : 
a little sleep was all they wanted.' Presently llans Wiis found nearly stifl' 
under a drift ; and Thomas, bolt npriglit, had his eyes dosed, and could 
hardly articulate. At hist, John Blake threw himself on the snow, and re- 
fused to rise. They did not complain of feeling ccM ; but it was in vain 



49S ADVENTUllES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

that I wrestled, boxed, ran, argued, jeered, or reprimanded: an immediate 
halt coidd not be avoided. 

We pitched our tent with much difficulty. Our hands were too powerless 
to strike a fire ; we were obliged to do without water or food. Even the 
spirits (whisky) had frozen at the men's feet, under all the coverings. We 
put Bonsall, Ohlsen, Thoniiis, and Han.s, with the other sick men, well in- 
bido the tent, and crowded in as many others as we could. Then, leaving 
the party in charge of Mr. McGary, with orders to come on after four hours' 
rest, I pushed ahead with William Godfrey, who volunteered to be my 
companion. My aim way to reach the half-way tent, and thaw some ico 
and pemmican before the others arrived. 

The floe was level ice, and the walking excellent. I cannot tell how long 
It took ns to make the nine miles ; for we were in a strange sort of stupor, 
and had little apprehension of time. It was probably about four hours. 
We kept ourselves awake by imposing on each other a continued articula- 
tion of words ; they must have been incoherent enough. I recall these 
hours as among the most wretched 1 have ever gone through : we were 
neither of us in our right senses, and retained a very confused recollection 
of what preceded our arrival at the tent. We both of us, however, remem- 
ber a bear, who walked leisurely before us, and tore up as he went a jumper 
that Mr. McGary had improvidently thrown off the day before. He tore it 
into shreds and rolled it into a ball, but never offered to interfere with our 
progress. I remember this, and with it a confused sentiment that our tent 
and buffalo-robes might probably share the same fate. Godfrey, with whom 
the memory of this day's work may atone for many faults of a later time, 
had a better eye than myself; and, looking some miles ahead, he could sea 
that our tent was undergoing the same unceremonious treatment. I thought 
I saw it too ; but we were so drunken with cold that we strode on steadily, 
and for aught I know, without quickening our pace. 

Probably our approach saved the contents of the tent ; for when we 
reached it the tent was uninjured, though the bear had overturned it, toss- 
ing the buffalo-robes and pemmican into the snow ; we missed only a couple 
of blanket-bags. What we recollect, however, and perhajis all we recollect, 
■iS, that wj had great difficulty in raising it. We crawled into our reindeer 
sleeping-bags, without speaking, and for the next three hours slept on in a 
dreamy but intense slumber. Wlien I awoke, my long beard was a mass of 
ice, frozen fast to the buffalo-skin : Godfrey had to cut me out with his 
jack-knife. Four days after our escape, I found my woolen comfortable 
with a goodly share of my beard still adhering to it. 

We were able to melt water and get some soup cooked before the rest of 
our l)ar^y arrived ; it took them but five hours to walk the nine miles. 
They were doing well, and, considering the circumstances, in wonderful 
spirits. They day was most providentially windless, with a clear sun. All 
enjoyed the refreshment we had got ready ; the crippled were repacked in 
their robes, and we sped briskly toward the hummock-ridgea which lay be- 
tween us and the Pinnacly Berg. 

The hummocks we had now to meet came properly under the designa- 
tion of squeezed ice. A great chain of bergs stretching from northwest to 
southeast, moving with the tides, had compressed the surface-floes, and 



OF AMERICANS. 499 

rearing them up on their edges, produced an area more like tlio volcanic 
pedragal of the basin of Mexico tlian anytliiug else I can compare it to. 
It required desperate efforts to work our way over it — literally desperate, 
for our strength failed us anew, and we began to lose our self-control. We 
could uot abstain any longer from eating snow ; our mouths swelled, and 
some of us became speechless. Happilj', the day was warmed by a clear 
sunshine, and the thermometer rose to — 4° in the shade ; otherwise wa 
must have frozen. 

Our halts multiplied, and wo fell half-sleeping on the snow. I could not 
prevent it. Strange to say, it refreshed us. I ventured upon the experi- 
ment myself, making Riley wake me at the end of three minutes ; and I 
felt so much benefited by it that I timed the men in the same way. Thev 
Bat on the runners of the sledge, fell asleep instantly, and were forced to 
wakefulness when their three minutes were out. 

By eight in the evening we emerged from the floes. The sight of the 
Pinnacly Berg revived us. Brandj', an invaluable resource in emergency, 
had already been served out in tablespoonful doses. We now took a longer 
rest, and a last but stouter dram, and reached the brig at one p. m., we be- 
lieve, without a halt. 

I say we believe; and here, perhaps, is the most decided proof of our suf- 
ferings ; we were quite delirious, and had ceased to entertain a sane appre- 
hension of the circumstances about us. We moved on like men in a dream. 
Our foot-marks, seen afterward, showed that we had steered a bee-line for 
the brig. It must have been by a sort of instinct, for it left no impress on 
the memory. Bonsall was sent staggering ahead, and reached the brig, God 
knows how, for he had fallen repeatedly at the track-lines : but he deliv- 
ered with punctilious accuracy, the messages I had sent by him to Dr. 
Hayes. I thought myself the soundest of all ; for I went through all the 
formula of sanity, and can recall the muttering delirium of my comrades 
when we got back into the cabin of our brig. Yet I have been told since of 
some speeches, and some orders, too, of mine, which I should have remem- 
bered for their absurdity, if my mind had retained its balance. 

Petersen and AVhipple came out to meet us about two miles from the 
brig. They brought my dog-team, with the restoratives I had sent for by 
Bonsall. I do not remember their coming. Dr. Hayes entered with judi- 
dous energy upon the treatment our condition called for ; administering 
morphine freely, after the usual frictions. Ho reported none of our brain- 
symptoms as serious, referring them properly to the class of those indica- 
tions of exhausted power which yield to a generous diet and rest. Mr. 
Ohlsen suffered some time from strabismus and blindness ; two others un- 
derwent amputation of parts of the foot, without unpleasant consequences ; 
and two died, in spite of all our efforts. This rescue-party had been out 
for seventy-two hours. We had halted in all eight hours, lialf of our num- 
ber sleeping at a time. We traveled between eighty and ninety miles, most 
of the way dr.agging a heavy sledge. The mean temperature of the whole 
time, including the warmest hours of three days, was at minus 41^ .2. We 
had no water except at our two halts, and were at no time able to intermit 
vigorous exercise without freezing. 

April 4, Taesikty. — Four days have passed, and I am again at my record 



500 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

of failures, sound, but aching still in every joint. The rescued men are not 
out of danger, but their gratitude is very touching. Pray God that they 
may live ! " 

The first appearnce of the Esquimaux is thus described : 

" We were watching, in tlie morning, at Baker's death-bed, when one of 
our deck-watch, who had been cutting ice for the melter, came hurrying 
down to the cabin with the report, ' People hallooing ashore !' I went up, 
followed by as many as could mount the gangway ; and there they were, 
on all sides of our rocky harbor, dotting the snow-shores, and emerging from 
the blackness of the cliffs — wild and uncouth, but evidently human beings. 

As we gathered on the deck, they rose upon the more elevated fragments 
of the' land-ice, standing singly and conspicuously, like the figures in a 
tableau of the opera, and distributing themselves around almost in a half- 
circle. They were vociferating as if to attract our attention, or, perhaps, 
only to give vent to their surprise ; but I could make nothing out of their 
cries, except ' Hoah, ha, ha ! ' and ' Ka, kaali ! ka, kaah ! ' repeated over and 
over again. 

There was light enough for ine to see that they brandished no weapons, 
and were only tossing their heads and arms about in violent gesticula- 
tions. A more unexcited inspection showed us, too, that their numbers 
were not as great, nor their size as Patagonian, as some of us had been dis- 
posed to fancy at first. In a word, I was satisfied that they were natives of 
the country ; and, calling Petersen from his bunk to be my interpreter, I 
proceeded, unarmed and waving my open hands, toward a stout figure, who 
made himself conspicuous, and seemed to have a greater number near him 
than the rest. He evidently understood the movement, for he at once, like 
a brave fellow, leaped down upon the floe, and advanced to meet me fully 
half-way. 

He was nearly a head taller than myself, extremely powerful and well- 
built, with swarthy complexion, and black ej'es. His dress was a hooded 
caj'ote, or jumper, of mixed white and blue fox-pelts, arranged with some- 
thing of fancy, and booted trowsers of white bearskin, which, at the end of 
the foot, were made to terminate with the claws of the animal. 

I soon came to an understanding with this gallant diplomatist. Almost 
as soon as we commenced our parley, his companions, jirobably receiving 
signals from him, flocked in and surrounded us ; but we had no diflSculty in 
making them know, positively, that they must remain where they were, 
while Metek went with me on board the ship. This gave me the advan- 
tage of negotiating with an important hostage. 

Although this was the first time he had ever seen a white man, he went 
with me fearlessly, his companions staying behind on the ice. Hickey took 
them out what he esteemed our greatest delicacies — slices of good wheat 
bread, and corned pork, with exorbitant lumps of white sugar; but they re- 
fused to touch them. They had evidently no apprehension of open violence 
from us. I found, afterward, that several among them were singly a match 
for the white bear and the walrus, and that they thought us a very pale- 
faced crew. 

Being satisfied with my interview in the cabin, I sent out word that the 
-rest might be admitted to the ship; and, although they, of course, could 



OF AMKRICANS. 501 

not know how their chief had been dealt with, some nine or ten of them 
followed, with boisterous readiness, upon the bidding. Others, in the mean- 
time, as if disposed to give us their campanj- for the full time of a visit, 
brought up from behind the land-ice as many as fifty-six fine dogs, with 
their sledges, and secured them within two hundred feet of the brig, driving 
their lances into the ice, and picketing the dugs to them by the sealskin 
traces. The animals understood the operation perfectly, and lay down aa 
soon as it commenced. The sledges wore made up of small fragments of 
porous bone, admirably knit together by thongs of bide ; the runners, which 
glistened like burnished steel, were of liighly-polished ivory, obtained from 
the tusks of the walrus. 

The only arms they carried were knives, concealed in their boots ; but 
their lances, which were lashed to the sledges, were quite a formidable 
weapon. The staff was of the horn of the narwhal, or else of the thigh- 
bones of the bear, two lashed together, or sometimes the mirabilis of the 
walrus, three or four of them united. This last was a favorite material, 
also for the crossbars of their sledges. They had no wood. A single rusty 
hoop from a current-drifted cask might have furnished all the knives of the 
party ; but the fleam-shaped tips of their lances were of unmistakable steel, 
and were riveted to the tapering bony point, with no mean skill. I learned 
afterward that the metal was obtained in traffic from the more southern 
tribes. 

They were clad much as I have described Metek, in jumpers, boots, and 
white bearskin breeches, with their feet decorated, like his, en griffe. A strip 
of knotted leather worn round the neck, very greasy and dirty -looking, 
which no one could be persuaded to part with for an instant, was mistaken, 
at first, for an ornament by the crew ; it w.as not until mutual hardships had 
made us better acquainted that we learned its mysterious uses. 

When they were first allowed to come on board, they were very rude and 
difficult to manage. They spoke three or four at a time, to each other and 
to us, laughing heartily at our ignorance in not understanding them, and 
then talking away, as before. They were incessantly in motion — going 
everywhere, trying doors, and squeezing themselves through dark passages, 
round casks and boxes, and out into the light again, anxious to touch and 
handle everything they saw, and asking for, or else endeavoring to steal, 
everything they touched. It was the more difficult to restrain them, as I 
did not wish them to suppose that we were at all intimidated. But there 
were some signs of our disabled condition, which it was important they 
should not see ; it was especially necessary to keep them out of the fore- 
castle, where the dead body of poor Baker was lying ; and, as it was in vain 
to reason or persuade, we had, at last, to employ the 'gentle laying-on of 
hands,' which, I believe, the laws of all countries tolerate, to keep them 
in order. 

Our whole force was mustered, and kept constantly on the alert; but, 
though there may have been something of discourtesy in the occasional 
slioulderings and bustlings that enforced the police of the ship, things went 
on good-humorcdly. Our guests continued running in and out and about 
the vessel, bringing in provisions, and carrying them out again to their dogs 
on the ice; in fact, stealing all the time, until the afternoon, when, lika 



602 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

tired children, they threw themselves down to sleep. I ordered thorn to ba 
made comfortable in the hold ; and Morton spread a large buffalo-robe fot 
them not far from a coal-fire in the galley-stove. 

They were lost in barbarous amaze at the new fuel — too hard for blubber, 
too soft for fire-stone — but they were content to believe it might cook as 
well as seal's fat. They borrowed from us an iron pot and some melted 
water, and parboiled a couple of pieces of walrus meat ; but, the real piece 
de resistance, some five pounds of head, they preferred to eat raw. Yet 
there was something of the gourmet in their mode of assorting their mou;h- 
fuls of beef and blubber. Slices of each, or rather strips, passed between 
the lips, either together or in strict alternation, and with a regularity of se- 
quence that kept the molars well to their work. 

They did not cat all at once, but each man when and as often as the im- 
pulse prompted. Each slept after eating, his raw chunk lying beside him 
on the buffalo-skin ; and, as he woke, the fii'st act was to eat, and the next 
to sleep again. They did not lie down, but slumbered away in a sitting 
posture, with the head declined upon the breast, some of them snoring 
famously. 

In the morning they were anxious to go ; but I had given orders to de- 
tain them for a parting interview with myself. It resulted in a treaty, brief 
in its terms, that it might be certainly remembered, and mutually beneficial, 
that it might possibly bo kept. I tried to make them understand what a 
powerful Prospero they had had for a host, and how beneficent he would 
prove himself as long as they did his bidding. And, as an earnest of my 
favor, I bought all the walrus meat they had to spare, and four of their 
dogs ; enriching them, in return, with needles and beads, and a treasure of 
old cask-staves." 

The flesh of the se.al is eaten universally by the Danes of Greenland, and 
is, at certain seasons, almost the staple diet of the Esquimaux. These ani- 
mals are shot lying by their atluh or breathing-holes. Their eyes are so 
congested by the glare of the sun in midsummer as to render them more 
readily approach.able. 

"On one occasion," says Dr. Kane, "while working my way toward tho 
Esquimaux huts, I saw a large Usuh basking asleep upon the ice. Taking off 
my shoes, I commenced a somewhat refrigerating process of stalking, lying 
upon my belly, and crawling along, step by step, behind the little knobs of 
floe. At last, when I was within long rifle-shot, the animal gave a sluggish 
roll so one side, and suddenly lifted his head. The movement was evi- 
dently independent of me, for he strained his neck in nearly the opposite 
direction. Then, for the first time, I found that I h.id a rival seal-hunter in 
a large bear, who was, on his belly like myself, waiting with commendable 
patience and cold feet for a chance of nearer approach. 

What should I do ? — the bear was doubtless worth more to me than the 
seal ; but the seal was now within shot, and the bear 'a bird in the bush.' 
Beside, my bullet once invested in the seal would leave me defenseless. I 
might be giving a dinner to a bear, and saving myself for his dessert. 
These meditations were soon brought to a close ; for a second movement of 
the seal so aroused my hunter's instincts that I pulled the trigger. My cap 
alone exploded. Instantly, with a floundering splash, the se.al descended 



OF AMERICANS. 5O3 

into the deep, aud the bear, with three or four rapid leaps, stood disconso- 
lately by the place of his descent. For a single moment wo stared each 
other in the face, and then, with that discretion which is. the better part of 
valor, the bear ran off in one direction, and I followed his example in tlio 
other." 

Toward the end of the mouth of April, the short season available for 
Arctic exploration being far advanced, Dr. Kane started on his grand sledge 
expedition to the north. Leaving the brig in charge of a trustworthy de- 
tachment, four able-bodied and six disabled men, the commander, with 
seven others, set out upon the tour over the ice. His plan was to follow 
the ice-belt to the Great Glacier of Humboldt, and from that point to stretch 
along the face of the glacier to the northwest, and make an attempt to cross 
the ice to the American side. The stores of the party consisted of pemmi- 
can, bread, and tea, a canvas tent five feet by six, and two sleeping-bags of 
reindeer skin. The sledge was light, built of hickory, and but nine feet 
long. A soup-kettle, for melting snow and making tea, was arranged to boil 
either with lard or spirits. A subdivision of the party with another sledge 
started two days before the departure of Dr. Kane, which took place on the 
27th. He reached the Great Glacier in safety. The coast of Greenland in 
the vicinity is of a highly picturesque character. The red sandstones pre- 
sent an impressive contract with the blank whiteness, associating the cold 
tints of the dreary Arctic landscape with the warm coloring of more southern 
lands. The different layers of the cliff have the appearance of jointed ma- 
sonry, and the narrow line of greenstone caps them with natural battle- 
ments. At one place rose the dreamy semblance of a castle, flanked with 
triple towers, completely isolated and defined. To these Dr. Kane gave the 
name of the " Three Brother Towers." A still more striking object was 
a single cliff of greenstone, north of latitude 79°, which reared itself from 
a crumbled base of sandstones, lik& the boldly-chiseled rampart of an 
ancient city. On one extremity stands a solitary column or minaret tower, 
as sharply finished as if it had been cast for the Place Vendome. The 
length of the shaft alone is four hundred and eighty feet, and it rises on a 
plinth or pedestal itself two hundred and eighty feet high. "I remember 
well," says Dr. Kane, "the emotions of my party as it first broke upon our 
view. Cold and sick as I was, I brought back a sketch of it, which may 
have interest for the reader, though it scarcely suggests the imposing dig- 
nity of this magnificent landmark. Those who are happily familiar with 
the writings of Tennyson, and have communed with his spirit in the soli- 
tudes of a wilderness, will apprehend the impulse that inscribed the scene 
with his name." No description can do justice to the Great Glacier itself. 
Rising in solid glassy wall, three hundred feet above the water-level, witli 
an unknown unfathomable depth below it, its curved face sixty miles in 
length from Cape Agassiz to Cape Forbes vanishes into unknown space at 
not more than a single day's railroad travel from the pole. The interior 
with which it communicated, and from which it issued, was an unsurveycd 
sea of ice, apparently of boundless dimensions. 

The journey, however, failed of success in forcing a passage to the north. 
On the sixth d.iy the party were attacked by scurvy, from wliich they had 
suffered terribly during the winter. Two of the number were taken with 



604 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

snow-blindness, and one was condemned as altogether unfit for travtl. To 
crown their discomfitures, they found that the bears had got hold of their 
pcmmican casks, and thus destroyed their chances of recruiting their supply 
of provisions at the several caches. Dr. Kane himself was seized with violent 
illness ; his limbs became rigid, and certain tetanoid symptoms made their 
appearance. In this condition he was unable to make more than nine miles 
a day. He was strapped upon a sledge, and the march continued ; but he 
was soon so much reduced as to find the moderate temperature of 5° below 
zero intolerable. His left foot was frozen up to the ankle-joint, and the 
same night it became evident that the difliculty in his limbs was caused by 
dropsical effusion. The nest day he grew delirious, and fainted whenever 
he was taken from the tent to the sledge. Every man in the party was so 
far gone as to make the continuance of the journey impossible. Scarcely 
able to travel, they bore the commander back to the brig, which they 
reached by forced marches on the fourteenth. Dr. Kane was entirely pros- 
trated for about a weeli. The first business after his convalescence was to 
arrange new parties for exploration. They returned in safety, with ample 
experience of the perils of Arctic discovery. 

Passing over the remainder of the summer (1854), we find the little party 
prepared to encounter the terrors of a second winter in that dreary region. 
The brig was fast in the ice, and every effort for her liberation had proved 
unsuccessful. At this crisis Dr. Kane called all hands together, and ex- 
plained to them the reasons which had decided him not to forsake the brig. 
He left it to the choice of each man, however to attempt an escape to open 
water or to stand by the fortunes of the expedition. Eight of the seven- 
teen survivors of the party resolved to remain with their commander ; the 
others were fitted out with every appliance that could be furnished, and 
departed on their almost desperate enterprise. They carried with them 
every assurance of a brother's welconio should they be driven back ; but it 
was not until after many weary months of trial and hardship that they 
were seen again. 

The arrangement of the winter-quarters now occupied the whole atten- 
tion of the little band. Dr. Kane determined to adhere to the routine of 
observances which had made up the sum of their daily life. No accus- 
tomed form was to be surrendered. The importance of systematic employ- 
ment was fully appreciated. The distribution and details of duty, the reli- 
gious exercises, the ceremonials of the table, the fires, the lights, the watch, 
even the labors of the observatory, and the notation of the tides and the 
sky, it was decided should go on as they had before. In the material ar- 
rangements, many useful hints were borrowed from the Esquimaux. The 
brig was thoroughly lined and padded with moss and turf. A pile of bar- 
rels on the ice contained their supply of water-soaked beef and pork. 
Flour, beans, and dried apples, formed a quadrangular blockhouse. The 
boats and sjjare cordage were placed along an avenue opening abeam of 
the brig. There was but a small store of vegetables. The pickled cabbage, 
dried apples and peaches had lost much of their anti-scorbutic virtue by 
constant use. The spices were all gone. Nothing remained but a few 
small bottles of horseradish to season the standing fare of bread, beef, and 
pork. A kind of root beer was brewed by the doctor from the branches of 



OF AMEfvICAiNS. 5O3 

the crawling willow, of which a stock had been laiJ in some weeks before. 
The gun procured them an occasional supply of fresh meat. Bear's flesh 
was a favorite dish, but the liver of that animal proved poisonous. A less 
noxious article of diet was the rat. A perfect warren of this tribe was on 
board the brig. Tlioy had become impudent and fierce with tlieir increaso 
of numbers. Xothing could be saved from their voracity. Furs, woolens, 
shoes, specimens of natural history were gnawed into and destroyed. They 
harbored among the men's bedding in the forcastle, and at last became in- 
tolerable nuisances. Dr. Kane took his revenge by decimating them for his 
private table. His companions did not share his taste, and he thus had the 
frequent advantage of a fresh-meat soup. To this inviting faro he ascribes 
his comparative freedom from scurvy. 

The want of fuel before the close of winter compelled them to rely upon 
their lamps fur heat. Pork-fat, boiled to lessen its salt, was the substitute 
for oil ; and bj- the use of metallic reverberators, a single wick was suflicient 
to keep liquid ten ounces of lard with a surrounding temperature of 30^ 
below zero. Eaw meat was now voted the most agreeable diet. A slice of 
blubber or a chunk of frozen walrus beef was taken with infinite relish. 
The liver of a walrus, eaten with little slices of fat, was a dainty morsel. 
The flesh and blubber of that animal is stated to be "the very best fuel a 
man can swallow." But of these savory viands, the party were now desti- 
tute. The sick began to suffer for want of meat. They were reduced to 
three days' allowance of frozen flesh, at the rate of four ounces a day for 
each man. In this emergency. Dr. Kane determined on a trip over the ice 
to ft settlement of F.squimaux huts at the distance of about a hundred 
miles. He was accompanied by Hans Christern, a native Esquimaux, and 
five dogs. Diu'ing th» journey, a frightful storm came on. Before it had 
fairly commenced, the party succeeded in reaching an old hut, which had 
been abandoned by the Esquimaux. Taking in the dogs, with the blubber- 
lamp, food, and bedding, which formed part of the burden of the sledge, 
they closed up the entrance with blocks of snow. 

They were scarcely housed before the storm broke out in all its fury. 
Completely cut off from the outer world, they here passed many miserable 
hours. They could keep no note of time. The only .indication of the 
state of the weather was the whirring of the drift against the roof of the 
kennel. The time was divided between sleeping and preparing coiTee, 
which Miej' drank with a relish. When warned by their instincts of the 
lapse of twelve hours, they treated themselves to a meal, dividing impartial 
bits out of the hind leg of a fox to give zest to their bi-scuits spread with 
frozen tallow. It was two days before they were released from tlieir nar- 
row prison, reckoning the time by the increased altitude of the moon. 
Upon attempting to resume theic journey, they found it impossible to work 
through the piles of drifted Shew. Sledge, dogs, and drivers were buried in 
the attempt. The two- travelersfharnassgd thejnsetyesto the sledge, and 
"lifted, levertja, 1,wist?d, dud -pulled," but alfiii \aiii.' They were> Com-',' • 
polled to give it up, and returned to the wretched hut. Taking the back 
track, they reached the brig the next morning, and for several days were 
incapable of the slightest exertion. On the last day of January (185oj, Dr. 
Kane writes in his journal : 



50G ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

"Our sick are worse, for our traps yield notUing, and we are still without 
fresh food. The absence of raw fox meat for a single day shows itself in 
our scurvy. Hemorrhages are becoming common. My crew — I have no 
crew any longer — the tenants of my bunks cannot bear me to leave them 
a single watch. Yet I cannot make Petersen try the new path which I dis- 
covered and found practicable. Well, the wretched month is over. It is 
sometliing to be living, able to write. No one has yet made the dark voy- 
age, and January the tliirty-first is upon us." 

One week afterward we find the following entry. What a world of mis- 
ery docs it reveal ! 

" Still no supplies. Three of us have been out all day without getting a 
shct. Hans thinks he saw a couple of reindeer at a distance, and his eyes 
rarely deceive him. He will try for them to-morrow. I have fitted out for 
him a tent and a sleeping bag ou the second table-land, and the thermome- 
ter is now so little below zero that he will be able to keep the field for a 
steady hunt. Our sick are sinking for the want of fresh food. It is the 
only specific. I dislike to use the unphilosophical term, but in our case it 
is the true one. In large quantities it dissipates the disease ; in ordinary 
rations it prevents its occurrence ; in small doses it checks it while sustain- 
ing the patient. We have learned its value too well to waste it ; every part 
of every animal has its use. The skin makes the basis of a soup, and the 
claws can be boiled to a jelly. Lungs, larynx, stomach, and entrails, all are 
available. I have not permitted myself to taste more than an occasional 
entrail of our last half-dozen rabbits. Not that I am free from symptoms 
of the universal pest. I am conscious of a stiffness in the tendons, and a 
shortness of breath, and a weariness of the bones, that should naturally at- 
tend the eruption which covers my body. But I have none of the more 
fearful signs. I can walk with energy after I get warmed up. I have do 
bleeding of the gums, and, better than all, thank God, I am without that 
horrible despondency which the disease nourishes and feeds on. I sleep 
sound and dream pleasantly — generally about successes in the hunt, or a 
double ration of reindeer or ptarmigan." 

On Sunday, the 25th of Februarj', a glimpse was obtained of the return- 
ing sun. 

"To-day, blessed be the great Author of light ! I have once more looked 
upon the sun. I was standing on deck, thinking over our prospects, when a 
familiar berg, which had long been hid in shadow, flashed out in sun-birth. 
I knew this berg right well ; it stood between Charlotte Wood Fiord and 
Little Willie's Monument. One year and one day ago, I traveled toward it 
from Fern Kock to catch the sunshine. Then I had to climb the hills be- 
yond to get the luxury of basking in its brightness; but now, though the 
sun was but a single degree above the true horizon, it was so much elevated 
by refraction that the sheen stretched across the trough of the fiord like a 
flaming tongue. I could not or would not resist the influence. It was a 
Sunday act of worship. I started off at an even run, and caught him as he 
rolled slowly along the horizon, and before he sank. I was again the first 
of my party to rejoice and meditate in sunshine. It is the third sun I have 
seen rise for a moment above the long night of an Arctic winter." 

In the beginning of March every man on board was tainted with scurvy, 



OF AMERICANS. 5O7 

and often not more than throe were able to make exertion in behalf of tho 
rest. On the 4th of the month the last remnant of fresh meat w;is doled 
out, and the invalids began to sink rapidly. Their lives were only saved 
by the success of a forlorn-hope excursion of Hans to the remote Esqui- 
maux hunting station, Etah, seventy-five miles away, whither he went in 
search of walrus. 

On one occasion the adventurers killed a bear that had come with its cub, 
pressed by extreme hunger, close to the brig. It is painful to read tho de- 
tails of the struggle, from the wonderful attachment shown by the mother 
to its cub, and by the latter to its parent, to whom it always clung, even in 
death. But the men's lives were valuable, and it was thought excusable to 
kill two bears when the gulls were seen gobbling up young eider-ducks, in 
the face of their distracted mothers, by mouthfuls. 

Having no fuel, they were now reduced to the Esquimaux system of re- 
lying on lamps for lieat; beds and bedding hence became black with soot, 
and their faces were begrimed with fatty carbon. The journal is now little 
more than a chronicle of privations and sufferings, interspersed with extraor- 
dinary efforts to keep up communications with the Esquimaux. It is, with- 
out comparison, the most painfully interesting record of experience in winter- 
ing in the far north that has ever yet been published. In the midst of their 
troubles two of the men tried to desert, but one only — Godfrey — succeeded. 
He returned, strange to say, on the 2d of April, with food, in a sledge, but 
■would not himself quit the Esquimaux. Under a misapprehension that he 
had robbed Hans, one of the hunters, of his sledge and dogs, his life was 
near being sacrificed by the commander from whom he had deserted. 

The abandonment of tlie brig was now resolved on. Before spring could 
be welcomed, preparations had been going on for some time for a sledge and 
boat escape from their long imprisonment. The employment thus given to 
the men exerted a wholesome influence on their moral tone, and assisted 
their convalescence. They had three boats, and they all ro(iuired to bo 
strengthened. There was clothing, bedding, and provision-bags to make. 
The sledges had to bo prepared. Tho 17th of May was appointed for tho 
start. The farewell to the ship was most impressive. Prayers wore read, 
and then a chapter of the Bible. The flags were then hoisted and hauled 
down again, and she was left alone, fozen in the ice. Godfrey had, by thi.s 
time, it is to be observed, rejoined the ship, so that the party consisted alto- 
gether of seventeen, of whom four were unable to move. 

Tho collections of natural history the party were reluctantly compelled 
to leave behind, and part of the apparatus for observations, as well as the 
library of the commander, and the books furnished by the goveniment and 
Mr. Grinnell for the use of the vessel. Nothing was retained but tho dosu- 
ments of the expedition. 

At Etah, the Esquimaux settlements were found "out on tlic bare rocks," 
enjoying the plenty which spring had brought. 

Up to the 23d the progress of Dr. Kane's party was little more than a 
mile a day. The housed boats luckily afforded tolerablj- good sleeping- 
berths at night. On the 5th of June, Ohlsen injured himself so, in an at- 
tempt to rescue a sledge from falling into a tide-hole, that he died threo 
days afterward. 



508 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

" Still passing slowl_v on, day after day— I am reluctant," writes Dr 
Kane, "to borrow from ray journal the details of anxiety and embarrass- 
ment with which it abounds throughout this period — we came at last to the 
unmistakable neighborhood of open water." This was off Pekiutlek, the 
largest of the Littleton Island group/ ' 

On Tuesday, the 19th of Juno, after a long farewell given to their long- 
tried friends, the Esquimaux of Etah, who had brought them frequent sup- 
plies of birds, and aided them in carrying their provisions and stores, they 
put to sea, and, the very first day's navigation, one of the boats swamped. 
They spent the first night in an inlet in the ice, and on the 2'2d reached 
Northumberland Island in a .snow-storm. Here they got fresh provisiojis. 
They crossed Murchison Channel on the 23d, and encamped for the night 
on the land-floe at the base of Cape Parry — a hard day's travel, partly by 
tracking over ice, partly through tortuous and zig-zag leads. So it was for 
many successive days. One day favorable, with open leads of water ; an- 
other slow and wearisome, through alternate ice and water. Then the floe 
would break up and carry them resistlessly against the rocks. Three long 
days they passed in a cavern of rock and ice, in which, however, they found 
plenty of birds' eggs. 

On the 11th they had doubled Cape Dudley Digges, and plants, and 
birds, and birds' eggs became more common. They spent a week to regain 
strength at so productive a spot, which they designated as " Providence 
Halt." At the Crimson Cliffs they again got a plentiful supply of birds. 
On the 21st of July, they reached Cape York, and made immediate prepa- 
rations for crossing Melville Bay, which was accomplished with great labor 
and suffering. Once more they were nearly starving, when a great seal came 
providentially to their succor. 

This was while they were in the open bay, and in boats so frail that they 
could only be kept afloat by constant bailing. It was at this crisis of their 
fortunes that they discovered a large seal floating on a piece of ice, and ap- 
parently asleep. Trembling with anxiety, they prepared to move down 
upon him, Petersen standing ready with a large English rifle. As they 
neared the animal the excitement of the men became intense, and he reared 
bis head when they were almost within rifle shot; "and to this day," says 
Dr. Kane, "I cau remember the hard, careworn, almost despairing expres- 
sion of their faces, as they saw him move : their lives depended upon his 
capture. I depressed my hand nervously as a signal for Petersen to fire. 
I saw that the poor fellow was paralyzed by his anxiety, trying vainly to 
obtain a rest for his gun against the cutwater of the boat. The seal rose on 
bis fore flippers, gazed at us for a moment with frightened curiosity, and 
coiled himself for a plunge. At that instant, simultaneously with the crack 
■of our rifle, he relaxed his long length on the ice, and, at the very brink of 
the water, his head fell helplessly to one side. I would have ordered an- 
other shot, but no discipline could have controlled the men. With a wiid 
yell, the}' urged both boats upon the flqcs ; a„<o*owd of hands seized the- 
Beal and bore him up to safer ice. The men seei^ed half-crazy ; I had not 
realized how much we were reduce'd, by absolute famine. ■ 'They ran ovetf' 
the floe, crying and laughing and brandishing their knives. It was not 



OF AMERICANS. 509 

five minutes before every man was sucking his blooJy fingers, or mouthing 
long strips of raw blubber." 

The feet of the party were at this time so swollen that they were obliged 
to cut open their canvas boots. The most unpleasant symptom was that 
they could not sleep. On the 1st of August, they sighted the Devil's 
Thumb. Hence they fetched the Duck Islands, and passing to the south 
of Capo Shackleton, landed on terra firma. Two or three day.s more and 
they were under the shadow of Karkamoot. 

"Just then a familiar sound came to us over the water. We had often 
listened to the screeching of the gulls, or the bark of the fox, and mistaken 
it for the 'Huk' of the Esquimaux ; but this had about it an inflection not 
to be mistaken, for it died away in the familiar cadence of a ' halloo.' 

" Listen, Petersen ! Oars — men ? What is it ? and he listened quietly 
at first, and then, trembling, said, in a half- whisper, 'Dannemarkers ! ' " 

It was the Upernavik oil-boat, and the next day they were at Upornavik 
itself, after being eighty-four days in the open air, and having passed over 
thirteen hundred miles. They could not remain within the four walls of a' 
house without a distressing sense of suffocation. 

At Upernavik they took passage in a Danish vessel for England. By 
good fortune they touched at Disco where they were met by the expedition 
of Captain Hartstein, that had been sent out in search of them. Embarking 
on board, they arrived in New York, early in October, after an absence of 
two years and four months. 

The expedition under Dr. Kane, although not succeeding in the great 
purpose for which it was dispatched, has contributed important and valuable 
additions to the geography of the Arctic regions. The highest point reached 
was nearly eighty-one and a half degrees of latitude, within about five hun- 
dred miles of the pole. In the different explorations by members of the 
party, the northern coast of Greenland was surveyed to its termination in 
the great Humboldt Glacier — this glacial mass was examined and described 
as far as its northward extension into the new land named Washington — a 
large tract of land forming the extension northward of the American conti- 
nent was discovered — and the existence ascertained of an open and iceless 
sea toward the pole, making an area, with its channel, of over four thousand 
miles. The discovery of this Polar Sea is one of the most interesting re- 
sults of Arctic exploration. It had long been suspected that such a tract of 
water was to be found in the vicinity of the pole, and the suspicion was 
confirmed to some extent by actual or supposed discoveries. But hitherto 
no satisfactory proof of the fact had been obtained. The evidence which 
Dr. Kane has had the rare good fortune to collect, is founded on facts of 
immediate observation. The coast of this mysterious sea was traversed for 
many miles, in the summer of 1854, by a sledge party under Wm. Morton, 
who was absent from the brig on this expedition for thirty days. The water 
was viewed from an elevation of five hundred and eighty feet, presenting 
the same limitless spectacle, moved by a heavy swell, free from ice, and 
dashing in surf against a rock-bound shore. In connection with this dis- 
cover}', several facts were brought to light indicating a milder climate near 
the pole. The sky to the northwest was of dark rain-clond ; also crowds 
of marine birds, the advance of vegetable life, the melted, euow upon the 



510 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

rocks, and the rise of the thermometer in the water, all suggested the sup- 
position of a climatic melioration toward the pole. 

"There is much in Dr. Kane's wonderful narrative to remind the reader 
of the story of old William Barentz, who, two hundred and fifty-nine years 
ago, wintered on the coast of Nova Zembla. His men, seventeen in num- 
ber, broke down during the trials of winter, and three died, just as of the 
eighteen under Dr. Kane throe had gone. Barentz abandoned his vessel, as 
the Americans abandoned theirs, took to his boats, and escaped along the 
Lapland coast to lands of Norwegian civilization. The Americans embarked 
with sledges and boats to attempt th(?" same thing. They had the longer 
journey, and the more difficult one, before them. Barentz lost, as they did, 
a cherished comrade by the wayside. . But one resemblance luckily does not 
exist : Barentz himself perished — Dr. Kane lived to write an account of all 
that he suffered in a noble cause. No mere abstract of his narrative can 
give an idea of its absorbing interest. 

His book is above all common praise, on account of the simple, manly, 
unaffected style in which the narrative of arduous enterprise and firm endur- 
ance is told. It is obviously a faithful record of occurrences, made by a 
man who was quite aware that what he had to tell needed no extraneous 
embellishment. There is, however, so much of artistic order in the mind 
of the narrator, that the unvarnished record has naturally shaped itself into 
a work of distinguished excellence upon literary grounds. The scenes which 
it describes are so vividly and vigorously brought before the reader, that 
there are few who sit down to the perusal of the narrative but will fancy, 
before they rise from the engrossing occupation, their own flesh paralyzed 
by the cold one hundred degrees greater than frost, and their blood scurvy- 
filled by the four months' sunlessness. 

It is only just also to remark, that there is unmistakable evidence in the 
pages of this interesting book, that the doctor was no less eminently gifted 
for the duties of his command then he has been happy in his relation of its 
history. Every step in his arduous path seems to have been taken only after 
the exercise of deliberately matured forethought. 

When the preparations for the final escape w'ere under consideration, the 
following record was made in the doctor's journal : ' Whatever of executive 
ability I have picked up during this brain-and-body- wearying cruise warns 
me against immature preparation or vacillating purposes. I must have an 
exact discipline, a rigid routine, and a perfectly thought-out organization. 
For the past six weeks I have, in the intervals between my duties to the 
sick and the ship, arranged the schedule of our future course ; much of it is 
already under way. My journal shows what I have done, but what there 
is to do is appalling.' Appalling as it w.is, the heroic man who had to look 
the necessity in the face, was equal to the position." 







lll'JIiN 



THE ACHIEVEMENTS 

OF THAT 

EMINENT AMERICAN MISSIONARY, 

ADONIRAM JUDSON, 



No PEINCIPLE in man is so powerful as that of religion. Stranger as he 
is in this world, knowing but little around him, ignorant even of himself, 
his mind, as it develops, becomes aroused to the enigma of his existence. 
"Who am I?" "What was my origin?" "Whither am I tending?" 
are questions of solemn import. 

Comparatively helpless, enveloped in mysteries, man feels the necessity 
of looking for a mightier power as the source of all things, and as a guide 
through the unknown future. The emotions thus originated, are united 
with the profoundest veneration for the great Unseen and Incomprehensible. 
This is Natural Religion, that which exists in the heart of every human being. 
The affections of the natural man open to the religious sentiment as the 
plants open to the light. The great want of humanity is a supreme object 
of worship and adoration. If destitute of this, man gropes in the dark and 
in his honest endeavors to minister to his religious faculties, falls a victim to 
horrible superstitions. The blackest records in history are those of crimes 
committed in the name of religion. 

But Eevelation unfolds to a man, an idea — the grandest that can 
enter the soul of mortal — an idea so vast that no finite being can compre- 
hend it — the idea contained in that awful word — GOD ! God, the creator 
and author of all that has been, that is, and that is to be ; God, the omni- 
potent, the omnipresent, and the omniscient, who holds the world in the 
hollow of his hand, and has the universe for his footstool, — who pervades 
all space, whose eye is upon all things, even to our thoughts: God Al- 
mighty, the good father of us all ! 

With the idea of God, revelation presents that other great idea — Immob- 
TALiTT ! This life is but the beginning : man is to live forever : a higher 
world may be his, where there is no sorrow and no sin. There, all his 
faculties, moral, social and intellectual, the just exercise of which, even on 
earth, with the impediment of a perishing frame, give so much joy, are to 
have full scope and in a more glorious, a perfect body. Eye hath not seen, 
nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, to conceive of 
the full measure of bliss that awaits him at the hands of his eternal Father. 

(511) 



512 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

When to these two great ideas is united the third — Salvation by Eaith, 
and these triune ideas, — God ! Immortality ! Heaven ! — take full possession 
of a man, he is ready for anything. Counting this life as nothing, he will- 
ingly dies, if need be, the death of a martyr, and under most excruciating 
tortures. Mortal agony is endured by the hope of immortal joy. 

We propose to trace on these leaves the history of one such, to whom no 
peril, no suffering, was to be avoided, if thereby his fellow-men were to 
derive benefit. We allude to that self-sacrificing, eminent American mis- 
sionary, Adoniram Judson. 

Five years after the close of the American Revolution, August 9, 1788, 
Adoniram Judson was born, in the town of Maiden, Massachusetts. His 
father was the pastor of a Congregational church, and therefore his son was, 
in common phrase, "well born," for in the New England States, the clergy 
are of preeminent influence. 

As a boy at school, Judson was noted for his sprightliness of disposition, 
studious habits, and ease in acquiring knowledge. At the proper age, he 
became a student of Brown University, and graduated there in 1807, with 
the highest honors of his class. He subsequently taught school at Ply- 
mouth, where his fine amiable traits and pleasing address won universal 
esteem.. Unfortunately he had, while at college, fallen into the very com- 
mon error of young men of his age, of disbelieving the truths of the Chris- 
tian religion. These skeptical ideas were dissipated afterward by a very 
sudden and surprising incident. 

Closing his school, he determined to travel in the Southern States, where 
it was thought he had an idea of settling, and much against the wishes of 
his parents. Ho got ready, and bade them farewell : they shed tears at the 
parting, and their continual affection and love were seldom from his mind, 
during his absence. This, to young Judson, was a second Damascus jour- 
ney. It was destined to change his whole career, and lead him eventually 
into that high calling, for which he was so peculiarly fitted. He had not 
long been absent when an event occurred that changed Ms determination. 
He put up at an inn, on his journey, where, it seems, one of his favorite 
fellow-graduates was also stopping, though he was ignorant of the fact. 
The same night the graduate died, and when Judson approached the corpse, 
as he thought of a traveling stranger, he was horrified as he gazed upon the 
inanimate form of his favorite college associate, and the same one, princi- 
pally, through whom his infidelity had been imbibed. He fell into a train 
of solemn reflection. This circumstance, and his parent's prayers, began tc 
whisper at his heart. He resolved to abandon his tour, retrace his steps, 
and devote himself to the study of the Holy Scriptures. He soon returned 
home, greatly to the surprise and joy of his parents and friends. 

True to his purpose, he commenced a rigid examination of the scriptures, 
and the subject of revealed religiou, and soon after, entered the Andove' 
Theological Seminary, though it was ordinarily a privilege enjoyed ex- 
clusively by religious young men, having the ministry in view : this regu- 
lation, however, was suspended in his case. He devoted himself to his 
studies with unwearied application. As a result of his investigation, his in- 
fidelity, that had trembled before a father's prayer, a mother's tear, and a 
friend's death-bed, was completely overturned. 



OF AMERICANS. 513 

It was diirini; his last j'ear at Andover, that the tract of an eminent 
divine, entitled " The Star in the East," devoted to the subject of foreign 
missions, fell into his hands. Speaking, in after life, of the feelings he had 
upon its perusal, Judson remarljs : " For some days I was unable to attend to 
the studies of my class, and spent my time in considering my past stupidity, 
depicting the most romantic scenes in missionary life, and roaming abont 
the college rooms, declaiming upon the subject of missions. My views wore 
very incorrect, and my feelings extravagant ; but yet I have always felt 
thankful to God for bringing me into that state of excitement, which was 
perhaps necessary, in the first place, to enable mo to break the strong at- 
tachment I felt to home and country, and to endure the thought of abandon- 
ing all my wonted pursuits and animating prospects. That excitement soon 
passed away ; but it loft a strong desire to prosecute ray inquiries, and ascer- 
tain the path of duty." 

lie was now determined to become a missionary of the cross, and the 
East Indies seemed to him to be the best field for his efforts. The follow- 
ing is the manner in which he says he came to this resolution : " It was 
during a solitary walk in the woods, behind the college, while meditating 
and praying upon the subject, and feeling half inclined to give it up, that 
the command of Christ, 'Go into all the world and preach the gospel to 
every creature,' was presented to my mind, with such clearness and power 
that I came to a full decision, ar d though great difficulties appeared in the 
way, I resolved to obey the command at all events." 

This design was morally heroic. In that da}', were obstacles difficult to 
be overcome. The entire absence of missionary societies to advance the in- 
terests of foreign missions, compelled those who desired to devote their lives 
to that cause, to look almost entirely to themselves for support. Judson 
having come to the determination, was anxious to depart ; nor did he wish to 
go alone : his heart was fired with a holy zeal, and he wished to see others 
unite with him, and work for the redemption of the world. He consulted 
with several young men of promise, who had missionary objects in view, 
and was gratified to find them alike enthusiastic. They applied to tho 
church representative for assistance, but were mortified to find that, owing 
to the little attention formerly given to the subject of missions, they had to 
submit to much delay. Judson, in the meantime, devoted himself to the 
•active duties of a clergyman. His reasoning was clear and lucid ; his ap- 
peals, warm and earnest ; his delivery, much admired. On one occasion, a 
Universalist minister of some note attended his church. After service, ho 
remarked to a friend : " I pitied that young man when I saw him enter the 
pulpit, this morning, but before he came down, I pitied myself" 

At that time, existed in London, an efficient organized missionary board, 
having for its object the circulation of the Bible and the " preached Word" 
among the heathen. By those to whom application was made by Judson 
and his companions, it was thought advisable to send one of the number to 
England, to confer with the managers of that society, and ascertain whether 
any concert of action could be established between the board and the Ameri- 
can missionaries. On this business, they rescdvcd to send Judson. With in- 
structions, therefore, how to proceed before the London Society, ho sailed for 
England in January, 1811. War was then raging between France and Eng- 



514 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

land, and having taken passage on an English vessel, he was captured with 
the rest of the crew, by a French privateer, and conveyed as a prisoner to 
Bayonne. Through the intercession of an American gentleman, he was 
set at liberty, provided with a passport, when he proceeded to England 
which ho reached four months after his departure from the United States. 

He found the plan he had in view impracticable, but the directors of the 
London society expressed a readiness to receive him and his brethren under 
their patronage, in case they could not obtain support in America, and gavo 
them instructions to be used by them at their option. 

Returning to the United States, Mr. Judson and another of the candidates 
for missionary service, attended the meeting of the Board of Commissioners 
at Worcester in September. The fund;; of the Board were scanty, and 
there was some indication th.it their enterprise might be yet further delayed. 
Mr. Judson urged immediate movement, on the ground of impending war 
with England, which might cause a long postponement, if not a final aban- 
donment of missions to the east. After anxious deliberation, the Board 
adopted Messrs. Judson, Hall, Newell, and Nott, as its missionaries, with a 
designation to the Burman empire, recommending, however, that they 
should continue their studies for a time. 

In the preceding year, Mr. Judson first met Miss Ann Hasseltine, with 
whom he formed an acquaintance that led to an offer of marriage. How- 
ever such a proposal might have been viewed by her under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, coming as it did from one about to be self-exiled for missionary 
service, in a distant land, and among a semi-barbarous people, it was no 
wonder that she hesitated. With qualities that fitted her to move in the 
choicest society, and sensibilities that might well shrink from the eminent 
self-deuial involved in acceptance of the prosposal, her devoted piety gave 
her power to sympathize with the missionary's spirit. Her decision was 
deliberately made, to share his sufferings and toils and unselfish joys. In 
her Mr. Judson found a most fortunate companion, and the cause of mis- 
sions an unrivaled ornament. Together, they were a pair peculiarly qual- 
ified for mutual support in founding a mission against obstacles few would 
have ventured to encounter, and fewer still would have had strength to 
overcome. The future was not indeed foreseen, but its possibilities were 
present to their minds. In asking her father's assent to their union, 
extenuating nothing, Mr. Judson frankly asked whether he could " con- 
sent to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean ; to the fatal influence 
of the southern climate of India; to every kind of want and distress ; to 
degradation, to insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death." The 
sacrifice was made, a scnee of duty overcame the promptiugs of parental 
tenderness, and the youthful pair, bound together by ties of united duty 
and aflVction, prepared for their departure. They were married on the 5th 
of February, 1812, and on the day following, Mr. Judson, with his four col- 
leagues, Messrs. Hall, Newell, Nott, and Rice, received ordination at Salem. 
Messrs. Judson and Newell, with their wives, sailed from Salem on the 19th 
in the b:\rk Caravan, for Calcutta, and the rest of the company from Phil- 
adelphia on the 18th, for the same destination. 

The Caravan arrived at Calcutta on the 18th of June. The mission- 
aries were cordially welcomed by Dr. Carey, and invited to await at Seram- 



OF AMEPJCANS. 515 

pore the arrival of their associates. They accepted the invitation, and were 
received with marked kindness by the mission family. Their enjoyment 
was rudely interrupted. In about ten days they received a summons to 
Calcutta. There a government order was served upon them to return im- 
mediately to America. Their position was embarrassing. The state of the 
Burman empire, their original destination, seemed to forbid the present es- 
tablishment of a mission there. To leave Calcutta then, was apparently to 
abandon their whole enterprise. They finally asked and obtained leave to 
Bail to the Isle of France, whither a vessel then in the river was bound. 
The vessel could take but two passengers, and Mr. and Mrs. Newell em- 
barked in her, leaving their companions to follow by the first opportunity. 
Mr. Judson remained two months in Calcutta, during which time that 
change took place in his views which sundered his present relations as a 
missionary, and w.is made the instrument of enlisting a new agency in the 
work of human evangelization. 

While on his passage from America, as he was engaged in the study of 
the original Scriptures, his attention was drawn to the subject of Baptism. 
The reflection that he was soon to meet Baptist missionaries, and that he 
might be called to defend his faith on the points of diflerence between 
them— an apprehension which turned out to be groundless — led him to 
study the subject more closely. Before reaching any conclusion, his arrival 
at Calcutta and subsequent difBculties arrested the inquiry. He resumed it 
after the departure of Mr. Newell, and ended by adopting the sentiments 
of the Baptists. It cost him a severe struggle to arrive at a conclusion that 
must sever him from the patronage of the Board that had honored him 
by its confidence, and leave him to the contingency of gaining support from 
a communion with whose members, saving two or three individual excep- 
tions, he had no personal acquaintance. On first learning the state of his 
mind, Mrs. Judson was much distressed, but after a similar investigation, 
her views were conformed to his. They were baptized on the 6th of Sep- 
tember. 

Mr. Rice united with Messrs. Hall and Nott in a regretful communica- 
tion of this "trying event" to the Board. But his own mind was excited 
to a review of his opinions, and in a few weeks followed the example of 
Mr. Judson. They resigned their commission from the Board, and wrote 
letters appealing to American Baptists for sympathy and aid. Meanwhile, 
it became necessary to take immediate measures to find a refuge from the 
hostility of the East India Company, which was heightened by intelligence 
of war between Great Britain and the United States, and by the suspicion, 
from their protacted stay, that the missionaries designed to remain per- 
manently al Calcutta. They were peremptorily ordered to take passage 
for England ; and in this emergency, they engaged a passage to the Isle 
of France. They had gone down the river for two days, when an order 
came, arresting the vessel, on the ground that she had on board pas- 
sengers ordered to England. All escape now seemed impossible ; but 
after remaining on shore three daj-s, they received from an unknown hand 
a pass authorizing their passage in the ship they had left. By two days' 
hard rowing, a distance of seventy miles, they reached Saugur, and found the 
vessel providentially Iving at anchor. 
33 



516 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

They arrived at. the Isle of France on the 17th of January. The hos- 
tility of the East Indian £;overnnicnt followed them : the governor received 
a notice to look carefully after them as suspicious persons. To this he paid 
no attention, and on the contrary treated them with much kindness, ofler- 
ing them, if they chose to remain on the island, his countenance in their 
work. But it was not a desirable field for missionary labor. They thought 
of Madagascar, but a mission there api>eared impracticable, and it was at 
last decided to attempt one at Pinang, or Prince of Wales' Island, for which 
purpose Mr. and Mrs. .Judson embarked for Madras. In the meantime, Mr. 
Hice returned to America, to effect in person with the P>aptists the needful ar- 
rangements for their support. Tidings of the unexpected event, that threw 
upon the sympathies of the denomination two missionaries already provi- 
dentially in India, had jjrecedod him, and he received a cordial welcome. 
Auxiliary societies were formed, and a meeting of delegates assembled in 
Philadelphia, by whom was formed the Baptist General Convention, more 
recently organized by the name of the American Baptist Missionary Union. 
Mr. and Mrs. Judson were adopted as their missionaries, while Mr. Rice 
remained to give his services to the domestic agency of the Convention. 

Where the appointed missionaries would labor was not, indeed, known 
even to themselves. On reaching Madras they heard of the order for the 
transportation of the American missionaries from Bombay to England. Dread- 
ing the like treatment, they made all haste to escape from British domin- 
ions. There was no outward bound vessel in the harbor, except an unsea- 
worthy craft about to sail for Rangoon, the principal port of the Barman 
empire. In this they took passage, and, after braving numerous perils, 
reached their destination in July, 1813, resolved, if practicable, to remain 
there. The trials they had met with providentially overruled the appre- 
hensions that caused them to shrink from a mission in Burmah, and brought 
them to the place of their original destination. The day of their arrival 
was one of gloom. Uncertain as to the issue of their enterprise, lonely 
from the want of Christian society, and without intelligence from friends at 
home, they went on shore, scarcely knowing whither they should go. The 
health of Mrs. Judson, moreover, had suffered from excitement, fatigue, and 
danger, so that she was scarcely able to land. They found shelter and the 
temporary companionship of Mrs. Felix Carey, in the mission-house that 
had been occupied about five years by English missionaries, but was now to 
be abandoned for the occupancy of others to whom the evangelization of 
Burmah was manifestly committed. 

The Burman empire, then including Arrncan and the Tenasserim prov- 
inces, of which it has been stripped, and Cassay, a part of which is now 
independent, is an absolute despotism. The monarch is styled the " Master 
of Life and Death," and his edicts are the unquestioned law of the land. 
The country is divided into districts, each under the rule of a viceroy, or 
governor, by whom the imperial decrees are executed on the whole people. 

The religion of Burmah, if such it may be called, is Boodhism, a super- 
stition which enslaves nearly one-third of the human race. It acknowl- 
edges no living or intelligent first cause, but affirms the eternity of matter. 
It holds that four Boodhs, or deities, have successively appeared at inter- 
vals of several thousand years, and have been absorbed into Nicban, a state 



OF AMERICANS. 517 

of entire unconsciousness or anniliilation, wliicli is rogarJud as tiio highest 
reward of virtue. The last Boodh, Gaudama, appeared about the year 
B. C. 600, becauic Boodh at the ago of thirty-five, and forty-five years after 
was absorbed. As thousands of years will elapse before the appearance of 
another, the system is meanwhile one of pure atheism. The objects of 
adoration are images and relics of Gaudama, to whom numerous temples 
are erected, served by a large body of priests, who are bound to celibacy, 
and subsist by alms. The only religions pursuit of the people is the ac- 
quisition of merit by alms deeds and austerities. 

Boodhism is superior to other forms of paganism, in its moral features. 
It does not deify lust, revenge, or cupidity. It has five moral precepts : 
Thou shalt not kill ; thou shalt not steal ; thou shalt not commit adultery ; 
thou shalt not lie ; thou shalt use no intoxicating liquor. But as it recog- 
nizes no eternal and Supreme Deity, leaving the universe to the foi'ce of a 
blind destiny : it imposes no adequate restraint on the depraved passions 
of its devotees. With many professions of ascctism, they show all the 
vices with which the history of heathen nations is uniformly darkened. 
The people are naturally active and energetic, with acute minds, lively 
imaginations, and a freedom of social intercourse unknown to most ori- 
ental nations, but the debasing influences of an atheistic philosophy and 
tyrannical government have made them indolent, unfeeling, suspicious and 
cruel. 

More than a year elapsed before Mr. Judson heard of the formation of 
the Baptist General Convention. For three years he was busied in learn- 
it)g the language, which is one of peculiar difficulty, and undertaken, as it 
was, without grammar, dictionary, or a teacher speaking Knglish, almost 
iiisurmount.able. But he had great aptitude for philological investigation, 
and foreign as its idiom is to the mental habits of western nations, he made 
the Burmese so much his own, that he ultimately used it with all the free- 
dom of a native. His first labors were directed to the preparation of a 
tract, entitled a Summary of the Christian Religion. He was commencing 
a translation of the New Testament, when ho found himself so much en- 
feebled by continuous study, that he was compelled to suspend his exer- 
tions, and think of seeking a temporary cliange of climate. The arrival of 
Rev. George II. Hough at Rangoon, to reinforce the mission, caused him 
to relinquish this purpose. Mr. Hough brought a printing-press, the gift of 
the Scrampore mission, by which the tract just mentioned and a catechism 
were soon ready for circulation. A translation of the Gospel of Matthew 
was next undertaken, and printed in the course of the following j-ear. 

The tracts were not without effect in calling the attention of the people to 
the "now religion." In March, 1817, an intelligent man, with great serious- 
ness of manner, came to the mission-house as an inquirer, from whom Mr. 
Judson caught walh grateful WT;nder, "the first acknowdedgment of an 
eternal God he had ever heard from the lips of a Burman." It w.as now 
resolved to commence public preaching, and in December, Mr. Judson 
sailed for Chittagong, in Arracan, to obtain the services of a native Christian 
as an assistant. The vessel was driven out of its cour.se, and he was handed 
at Madras, where he was detained till the June following. Great anxiety 
was excited at Rangoon by information frcnn Chittagong, that the vessel 



518 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

had not been heard from. To add to the perplexity of their situation, tho 
missionaries were startled by a summons, couched iu menacing terms, com- 
manding Mr. Hough's presence at the court-house. The viceroy had hith- 
erto treated them with respect and kindness ; the change was equally mys- 
terious and alarming. It afterward appeared that a royal order for the 
expulsion of three Portuguese priests, from the laxity of its terms, had 
been held to include all foreign religious teachers. After some day's alarm 
and vexation, Mr. Hough was released from arrest, but these events, together 
with rumors of war with the British Indian government, excited such fear, 
that he set sail for Bengal, talking with him the chief part of the printing 
apparatus. Mrs. Judson at first proposed to share his flight, and actually 
went on board the vessel, but finally determined, though alone, and uncer- 
tain whether her husband was living, to remain at Rangoon, and there 
await his coming, or the tidings that should confirm her darkest forebod- 
ings. In a few days her heroic decision was rewarded by Mr. Judson's 
return, and not long after. Rev. Messrs. Coleman and Wheelock arrived 
from the United States to join the mission. Their presence was hailed 
with the liveliest satisfaction, hut it soon became painfully evident that 
neither had the physical strength to endure the toils of missionary life. 

Though foiled in the purpose for which his voyage to Chittagoug was un- 
dertaken, Mr. Judson went forward with his design to attempt public 
preaching. Tho comparatively quiet manner in which the mission had 
hitherto been conducted screened them from official jealousy, but with a 
change of policy this security would be at an end. Trusting, however, in 
the divine protection, the decisive step was taken. A zayat, — a building 
which in Burmah answers the two-fold purpose of an inn or caravansery 
and an edifice for public meetings, — was erected On an eligible site, and 
opened for worship in April, 1819. A small congregation was gathered, 
and the only living and true God was for the first time publicly adored, 
and his message of mercy proclaimed in the Burmese language. 

The thirtieth of April was a memorable day : Moung Nau, the first 
Burman convert, then made his appearance at the zayat. He continued 
his visits daily, till, on the 5th of May, Mr. Judson recorded his confident 
hope that a soul was truly won. " It seems almost too much," he says, 
" to believe that God has begun to manifest his grace to the Burmans ; but 
this day I could not resist the delightful conviction that this is really the 
case. Pkaise and glort be to his name for evebmoke. Amen." On 
tho 5th of June, Moung Nau presented a written application for baptism, 
which was administered on the 27th in "a large pond in the vicinity, the 
bank of which is graced with an enormous image of Gaudama." The first 
success was gained, the first living stone laid for the spiritual temple that 
is to glorify God in Burmah. 

Two additional converts were received to the fellowship of tho church 
in November. Others were inquiring, among them Moung Shwa Gnong, 
a learned man and subtle reasoner, who engaged Mr. Judson iu animated 
discussions for a considerable time. At last he confessed his belief in the 
truths of Christianity. The viceroy was informed that he had changed his 
religion. "Inquire further," was his significant order. Moung Shwa 
Gnong was terrified. The other inquirers shared his apprehensions, and 



OF AMERICANS. 5I9 

the zayat was deserted except by the three Christian Burmans. Under these 
circumstances, an appeal to the king appeared to the mission the only re- 
source. Fear restrained the people, and only a pledge of toleration by the 
government, it seemed, would enable thera to prosecute their work with 
the hope of success. 

Messrs. Judson and Coleman acaordingly set out, on the 2'Jd of Decem- 
ber, to ascend the Irrawadi to Aniarapooriv, then the capital of the empire. 
Mr. Wheelook was no more, having died in August. They reached the 
"golden city" on the 25th of January. On the 27th, the king having sig- 
nified his willingness to see them, they repaired to the palace, taking with 
them the Bible, in sis volumes, gilded in Burman style, as a present to the 
king, a revised copy of the "Summary of the Christian Religion" for his 
majesty's information, and a respectful prayer for toleration. Moung Zaii, 
one of the chief ministers, conducted them to a magnificent hall, where 
they awaited the royal presence. The "golden foot" approached. "He 
came," says Mr. Judson, " unattended, — in solitary grandeur, — exhibiting 
the proud gait and majesty of an eastern monarch. Ho strided on. Every 
bead excepting ours was now in the dust. We remained kneeling, our 
hands folded, our eyes fixed on the monarch. When he drew near we at- 
tracted his attention. He stopped, partly turned toward us; — 'Who are 
these?' 'The teachers, great king,' I replied. 'What, you speak Bur- 
man?'" After a series of questions respecting themselves and their 
nation, the petition was read aloud. He took it in his hand, and road it 
deliberately through. Without saying a word, he returned it, and took the 
tract. He held it long enough to read the first two sentences, which af- 
firmed the existence one eternal God, and dashed it to the ground. The 
present was unfolded, but no notice was taken of it. The minister inter- 
preted the roj'al silence in these words: "In regard to the objects of your 
petition, his majesty gives no order. In regard to your sacred books, his 
majesty ha.s no use for them ; — take them away." 

Some further efforts were made to accomplish their purpose, but in vain. 
Exhausted with fatigue and excitement, disappointment of their object, 
and looking for the certain abandonment of their mission, they returned to 
Rangoon. On their way they met Moung Shwa Gnong, and related the 
failure of their petition. He showed less alarm than they expected, and 
calmly reaffirmed his faith in Christianity. At Rangoon they disclosed their 
sad tidings to the throe disciples, and intimated their intention to remove to 
the border of Arrac.an, among a Burman population under British protection. 
To their surprise, the disciples, so hr from being disheartened, vied with 
each other in expressions of courageous zeal. If the mission.aries removed, 
they would accompany them ; if not, they would stand by them. They 
earnestly desired that Rangoon might not be abandoned, — and it was not. 
Mr. and Mrs. Judson remained where they were. Mr. Coleman fixed his 
abode at Chittagong, to provide a retreat for them in case of danger. But 
his time was short. In a little more tluan two years he fell a martyr to the 
intensity of his zeal. 

The missionary pair were alone at Rangoon, but were cheered by the 
constancy of the disciples and the visits of inquirers. Three persons were 
odded to their little church in the spring and summer of 1820. The health 



520 ADVENTURES AND ACPIIETEMENTS 

of Mrs. Jiidson required a voyage to Bengal, in which it was necessary 
that she should he accompanied by her husband. Four additional converts, 
one of them the learned Moung Shwa Gnong, and another a female disci- 
ple, the first of her sex in Burmah, applied for baptism, and received the 
rito before their departure. Thus, against all discouragements, the work 
went on. They had acquired the language, a grammar and dictionary were 
compiled, the Gospel of Matthew and some tracts had been printed, the 
Epistle to the Ephesians was translated, public worship established, and 
in the face of the royal frown ten persons had made an open profession 
of Christianity. After about six months' residence in Bengal, the mission- 
aries returned to Rangoon in January, 1821. They were joyfully welcomed 
by the disciples, who, though without the regular means of grace, and dis- 
persed through fear of petty officers, had continued steadfast in the faith, 
and another was added to their number in March. 

The improvement in Mrs. Judson's health was transient, and in the sum- 
mer of 1821 she visited America, where she spent about a year. The 
voyage was undertaken alone, as Mr. Judson felt that in the present state of 
his work he could not leave Rangoon. By the publication of a history of 
the mission, and her pe.rsonal appeals, she- deepened the public inter- 
est for its furtherance, and on her return w;\s accompanied by Mr. and 
Mrs. Wade, appointed to reinforce them. During her absence Mr. Judson, 
besides forwarding the translation of the New Testament, had gathered 
.several converts, making the whole number eighteen. The arrival of Dr. 
Price, who joined the mission soon after Mrs. Judson's departure, led to 
another visit to the capital, the king having heard of his medical skill, and 
ordered him to report himself immediately at court. Mr. Judson accom- 
panied lura, with the hope of making a more favorable impression respect- 
ing his missionary labors. For .some time no notice was taken of him, 
except as interpreter of Dr. Price, who received very kind attention. After 
three days' attendance at the palace, his majesty condescended to ask some 
questions about his religion, and put the alarming interrogatory whether 
any had embraced it. The evasive answer, "Not here," would not do. 
"Are there any at Rangoon?" " There are a few." "Are they Burmans 
or foreigners ?" The trutli must out. " There are some Burmans and 
some foreigners." The king showed no displeasure, but calmly continued 
the conversation. 

By some of the ministers and officers in the court Mr. Judson was 
treated with much consideration, and the claims of Christianity were freely 
and candidly discussed. The king was pleased to direct that the mission- 
aries should remain at Ava, and land was given them for the erection of 
dwellings. These arrangements having been made, Mr. Judson returned 
to Rangoon. Here he completed the translation of the New Testament, 
and compo.sed an epitome of the Old, to serve the converts till the entire 
Scriptures could be put into their hands. On the 5th of December, 1823, 
he welcomed Mrs. Judson and Mr. and Mrs. Wade, and immediately re- 
moved with his wife to Ava, '-not knowing the things that should befall 
them there," leaving Mr. Hough with the new missionaries at Rangoon. 
For a little time he preached in the imperial city, but the work was sud- 
denly arrested, and the persons of the missionaries placed in great peril, by 



01'' AMEKICAKS. 521 

the commencement of a war with the British E .st Indian government. 
Mrs. Judsoii hail been warned of the probability of such an event on her 
arrival at Calcutta, from the United States, but disregarded the advice of 
her friends to forbear returning to Burmah. 

The storm burst sooner than had been anticipated. The encro.^chnients 
of the Burmans on the territories of the East India Company had been 
long comp.aiiicd of, but the king, with ignorant vanity, attributed the re- 
monstrances of the English to fear. He collected an army to invade Ben- 
gal, with instructions to bring the governor-general in golden fetters to Aval 
The English resolved to anticipate his movements, and in May, 182-1, a 
force of six thousand men, under command of Sir Archibald Campbell, at- 
tacked Rangoon. The viceroy forthwith ordered the arrest of every person 
in town, '' who wore a hat." Messrs. Hough and Wade were seized, and 
condemned to instant death, but were reprieved, and after much suffering 
were released by the English. They then removed with all speed to Ben- 
gal, where Mr. Wade pursued the study of the language, and put to press 
Mr. Judson's Burmau dictionary, a work of modest pretensions, but of no 
little utility. 

For two years no information was received of the fate of the missionaries 
at Ava. Whether they were murdered at the first outbreak of hostilities, 
or worn out by slower tortures, or still lingered in captivity, could not be 
conjectured. The suspense was almost intolerable. And when the silence 
was broken by tidings of their safety, the general joy was mingled with inex- 
pressible sympathy, at the recital of sufferings more dreadful than the paiiis 
of death, visited upon their devoted heads. 

The news of the capture of Kangoon by the English had reached Ava, 
Sunday, May 23d, 1824. Soon after a rumor was circulated that papers had 
been received from Bengal, which made known the purpose of the British 
to make an attack at that point In consequence of this report certain 
Englishmen at Ava were examined. It was found that they had seen the 
jiDpers, and they were put in confinement, and subsequently transferred to 
the death- prison. 

It being known that the American missionaries had frequent communica- 
tions with Bengal, the suspicion that they were spies soon rested on them, 
but after examination they were allowed to return to their homes. They 
had but a short respite. On the 8th of June, as Mr. Judson was prepar- 
ing for dinner, the veranda of his dwelling was suddenly thronged with 
people, and an ofBcer, holding a black book, rushed in, "accompanied by 
one who, from his spotted face, was known to be an executioner and a son 
of the prison. 'Where is the teacher?' was the first inquiry. Mr. Jnd.son 
presented himself. ' You are called by the king,' said the ofllcer — a form 
of speech always used when about to arrest a criminal." He was iristantly 
seized, thrown on the floor, lightly bound with cords, and struck with the 
knees and elbows in the act of being secured. These cords were so firmly 
bound round his arms that the skin was cut. 

An offer of money on the part of Mrs. Judson drew the attention of the 
officer to her, and a command was given to the spotted face to take her 
likewise; and but for the earnest entreaties of Mr. Judson that they would 
wait for fi;rther instructions, it is probable she would have been subjected to 



522 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

like indignities. It was in vain that the si^otted face was entreated to take 
the silver and loosen the cords, and thus bound Mr. Judson was removed 
from his house. In a short time he was again thrown down, the cords 
drawn more tightly, and repeated strokes of the knee made on his back, so 
as almost to induce fainting. Money was then demanded for loosening the 
cords. "A Christian native, who had followed at a distance, now came 
forward and offered to go back for the mone}', but before his return the 
anguish endured was so great that Mr. Judson was obliged to appeal to the 
numerous bystanders. 'Is there no one who knows me? Is there no one 
who will be my securitj' for the money — no one who pities mo? I am a 
priest, and though a foreign one, deserve not such indignity, such torture.' 
But none stepped forward, and the cruel monster persisted in tightening the 
cords until the arrival of Moung Ing, with ten ticals of pure silver, when 
his arms were somewhat relieved, so as to allow a more free respiration, and 
he was again hurried forward a distance of nearly two miles to the prison- 
house. Here the order to commit the missionaries to the death-prison was 
re.ad. According to Dr. Price, it was very laconic. " P. and J. catch and 
put in prison." The dreaded functionary who presided over this fearful 
abode, immediately took charge of Mr. Judson, who, having been fettered 
with throe pairs of irons, was "strung" on a bamboo pole, on which were 
five foreign residents, who had been taken a few hours before. ','At first," 
according to the testimony of Mr. Laird, one of the captives, " the whole of 
the prisoners had a long bamboo passed between the legs, over the fetters, 
so that one leg rested on the bamboo and the other on the platform on 
which we lay." 

A few hours after Mr. Judson's capture. Dr. Price was seized and taken 
to the .same dreary abode. His sensations on entering the prison he has 
thus described: "Horror of horrors! what a sight! Never to my dying 
day shall I forget the scene ; a dim lamp in the midst, just making dark- 
ness visible, and discovering to my horrified gaze sixty or seventy wretched 
objects, some in long rows, made fast in the stocks, some strung on poles, 
some simply fettered ; but all sensible of a new accession of misery in the 
approach of a new prisoner. Stupefied, I stopped to gaze, till, goaded on, 
I proceeded toward the farther end, when I again halted. A new and unex- 
pected sight met my eyes. Till now I had been kept in ignorance of the 
fate of my companions ; a long row of white objects, stretched on the floor 
in a most crowded situation, revealed to me, however, but too well their 
sad case." In this company he found Mr. Judson. Though it might have 
been thought that the presence of his associate would have been almost a 
cause of gladness, yet our subject, altogether forgetful of himself, ex- 
claimed to Dr. Price, "We all hoped you had escaped, you were so long 
coming." 

" Here," writes Dr. Price, "side by side we were allowed the only gratifi- 
cation left, of condoling in the Burmah language with each other. 'Now 
you are arrived, and our number is eomiilete, I suppose they will jiroceed 
t« murder us,' w-as the first thing suggested, and no one could say it was 
improbable. To prepare for a violent death, for immediate execution, was 
our consequent resolution. And now we began to feel our Strength, our 
Strong-hold, our Deliverer in this dark abode of misery." 



OP AMERICANS. 523 

Thus did the Lord manifest his presence to his servants, though they 
had no bed but tlic filthy, greasy floor of the prison, and were unable to 
move their bodies for the bamboo which passed through their limbs. At 
the same lime the stench was almost intolerable ; and the night being 
rainy, the water found a ready entrance through the boards of their prison. 

Mrs. Judson was placed under surveillance for the first two days of her 
husband's incarceration, but on the third day she was relieved from the 
presence of her guard, and having visited the governor, obtained from him 
an order for admission to the prison. lu a letter to Dr. Eliiathan Judson, 
she says : ' The sensations produced by meeting your brother in that 
wretched, horrid situation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I will not 
attempt to describe. Mr. Judson crawled to the door of tlie prison — for I 
was not allowed to enter — gave me some directions relative to his release ; 
but before we could make any arrangements I was ordered to depart by 
those iron-hearted jailors, who could not endure to .see us enjoy the poor 
consolation of meeting in that miserable place. In vain I pleaded the 
order from the governor for my admittance ; they again harshly repeated, 
' Depart, or we will pull you out.' " 

Having made a payment of a hundred ticals for each of the missionaries, 
"the same evening," Mrs. Judson writes, "the missionaries, together with 
the other foreigners, who paid an equal sum, where taken out of the com- 
mon prison, and confined in an open shod in the jmson inclosure. Here I 
was allowed to send them food, and mats to sleep on ; but was not permit- 
ted to enter again for several days." 

One of the first scenes which the missionaries were compelled to behold 
was the torture of a criminal, whose shoulders and hip joints were almost 
or quite dislocated by the ingenious appliances of Burman cruelty. " We 
only anticipated," Dr. Price says, "in every contortion and groan of the un- 
happy man the state we might soon be in." Then there was reason for 
great alarm on account of the keeper to whose charge thej' were cliiefly 
committed, for, like most Burman constables, he was a reprieved malefac- 
tor. As described by Mr. Crawford, who saw him in 1856, he was "an old 
man of si.^cty, lean, and of a most villainous countenance. He was by birth 
of the tribe of the Kyncs, had murdered his master, and had a large circle 
on each cheek, with the Burman words 'Lu that,' or man-killer, in very 
large letters on his breast." This man seemed to delight in the sufferings 
of those committed to his charge. In addition to these things, Mr. Judson 
thought of a wife just returned from the refined society lof England and 
America, liable to all the savage cruelties he was enduring. Already she 
had been threatened with violence, and in every effort to minister to him 
she was at fearful peril. 

The presence of Mrs. Judson, though a cause of anxiety, was neverthe- 
less an incalculable blessing. Iler heroic and unfaltering intercessions with 
those in authorit}', combined with her personal ministry for his relief, to all 
human appearance, were indispensable to the preservation of his life. 

When first incarcerated, Mrs. Judson entertained considerable hope that 
relief might be found for her afflicted partner if she could secure tlic- favoi^ 
able regard of the queen. No person being admitted into the palace who 
was in disgrace with the king, she determined to see the sister-in-law of 



524 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

her majesty, hoping to interest her in his hehalf. This interview she has 
described : "I had visited her in better days, and received particular marks 
of her favor. But now times were altered ; Mr. Judson was in prison, and 
I in distress, which was a sufficient reason for giving me a cold reception. 
I took a present of considerable value. She was lolling on her carpet as I 
entered, with her attendants around her. I waited not for the usual ques- 
tion to a suppliant, ' What do you waut '!' but iu a bold, earnest, yet respect- 
ful manner, stated our distresses and our wrongs, and begc^cd her assistance. 
She partly raised her head, opened the present I had brought, and coolly re- 
plied, 'Your case is not singular; all the foreigners are treated alike.' 
' But it is singular,' said I ; the teachers ai-e Americans ; they are ministers 
of religion, have nothing to do with war or politics, and came to Ava iu 
obedience 'to the king's command. They have never done anything to 
deserve such treatment, and is it right they should be treated thus ?' ' The 
king does as he pleases,' said she ; ' I am not the king ; what can I do ?' 
'You can state their case to the queen, and obtain their release,' replied I. 
' Place yourself in my situation ; were you iu America, your husband, in- 
nocent of crime, thrown into prison, in irons, and you a solitary, unpro- 
tected female, what would you do ? With a slight degree of feeling, she 
said, 'I will present your petition ; come again to-morrow.' " 

Mrs. Judaon " returned to the house with considerable hope that the 
speedy release; of the missionaries was at hand." But her " hopes were 
dashed " b}' the announcement — " I stated your case to the queen, but her 
majesty replied, 'T/ie teachers will not die; let them remain as they are.'" 

After hearing this sentence, Mrs. Judson, on her way home, attempted to 
enteV the prison-gate, but was refused admittance, and for the ten days fol- 
lowing, notwithstanding her daily effort, was not allowed to enter. " Wo 
attempted," she says, "to communicate by writing, and after being success- 
ful for a few days, it was discovered ; the poor fellow who carried the com- 
munications was beaten and put iu stocks, and the circumstances cost me 
about ten dollars, besides two or three days of agony for fear of the conse- 
quences." 

Afterward they discovered other and safer method of corre.=;pondence. 
Mrs. Judson says : " The means which we invented for communication were 
such as necessity alone could have suggested. At first I wrote to him on a, 
flat cake baked for the purpose, and buried it in a bowl of rice ; and in return 
he communicated his situation on a piece of tile, on which, when wet with 
water, the writing became invisible, but when dried, perfectly legible. Bu8 
after some months' experience, we found the most convenient as well as 
safest mode of writing was to roll up a chit and put it in the long nose of a 
coffee-pot in which I sent his tea. These circumstances maj' appear trivial, 
but they serve to show to what straits and shifts we were driven ; it was a 
crime of the highest nature to be found making communications to a pris- 
oner, however nearly related." 

After being repulsed by the queen's sister-in-law, Mrs. Judson says : " I 
felt ready to sink down in despair, as there was then no hope of Mr. Jud- 
son' release from another quarter; but a recollection of the judge in the 
parable, \vho, though he feared not God, nor regarded man, was moved by 
the importunities of a widow, induced me to resolve to continue my visits 



OF AMERICANS. 526 

Qntil the object was attaiued. But here also I was disappointed ; for after 
entreating her many times to use her influence in obtaining the release of 
the missionaries, she became so irritated at my perseverance that she re- 
fused to answer my qucalions, and told me by her lool;s and motions tha* 
it would be dangerous to make any further effort." 

Though so often disappointed, Mrs. Judson's efforts for the release of the 
prisoners wero not intermitted. "For tho seven following months," she 
writes, "hardly a day passed that I did not visit some one of the members 
of the government or branches of the royal family, in order to gain their 
influence in our behalf; but the only benefit resulting was, their encouraging 
liromises preserved us from despair, and induced a hope of the speedy ter- 
mination of our difficulties, which enabled us to bear our distresses better 
than we otherwise should have done. I ought, however, to mention that, 
by my repeated visits to the different members of government, I gained sev- 
eral friends, who were read}' to assist me with articles of food, though in a 
private manner, and who used their influence in the palace to destroy tho 
impression of our being in any way engaged iji the present war. But no 
one dared to speak a word to the king or queen in favor of a foreigner 
while there were such continual reports of tho success of the English 
arms." 

Such were some of the events without the prison, but it is difficult for 
any to realize what passed within. Month after month of confinement and 
anxiety passed in three pairs of fetters. The "continual extortions and 
oppressions" of tho first seven months, one of Mrs. Judson's letters de- 
clares "indescribable. Sometimes sums of money were demanded, some- 
times pieces of cloth, and handkerchiefs ; at other times an order would bo 
issued that the white foreigners should not speak to each other, or have 
any communication with their friends without. Then, again, the servants 
were forbidden to carry in their food without an extra fee." 

In January, 1825, Mrs. Judson became the mother of a little girl. 
When this child was twenty days old, slie caused her to bo carried to the 
prison as she went to visit her husband. It is difficult for a man to con- 
ceive a more touching scene than the subsequent interview. Mr. Judsou 
at this time composed some verses which, not unlike the celebrated adieu 
of John Rogers, tho martyr, to his ten bereaved children, have a value 
wholly iiTcspective of their poetic merits. 

U.N£S ADDKK3SEU TO AH INFANT DAUGHTER, TWENTY DAYS OU), IN TUB CON- 
DEMNED PRISON AT AVA. 

Sleep, ilarliug inl'aut, sleep, 

HusheJ oil thy mother's breast ; 
Let no rude souud of clunking chains 

Disturb thy balmy icst. 

Sleep, darling infant, sleep, 

I31est that thou caust not know 
The pangs that rend tliy parents' hearts. 

The keenness of their woe. 



626 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Sleep, dailiug iufaut, sleep; 

May Heaven its blessings shed. 
In rich piofiisiou, soft and sweet, 

On thine unconscious head 1 

Why ope thy little eyes % 

What would my darling see ? 

Her sonowing motbei''s bending fonnS 
Her father's misery "i 

Wouldst view this drear abode. 

Where fettered felons lie. 
And wonder that tliy father here 

Such place should occupy 1 

Wouldst mark the dreadful sights 
That stoutest hearts appal — 

The stocks, the cord, the fatal sword. 
The torturing irou mall ", 

No, da]'Iing infant, no : 
Thou seest them uot at all ; 

Thou only mark'st the rays of light 
That flit along the wall. 

Thine untaught infant eye 

Can notbiug clearly see ; 
Sweet scenes of home and prison scenes 

Are all the same to thee. 

Stretch, then, thy little arms, 

And roll tby vacant eye ; 
Reposing on thy mother's breast 

lu soft security. 

Go, dai-ling infant, go ; 

Thine hour is past away ; 
The jailor's voice, in accents harsh, 

forbids thy longer stay. 

God grant that we may meet 

In happier times than this. 
And with thy angel-mother dear. 

Enjoy domestic bliss. 

But should the gathering clouds 
That Burmah's sky o'erspread 

Conduct the fatal vengeance down 
Upon thy father's head. 

Where couldst thou shelter find 1 
And whither wouldst thou sti'ay ^ 

What hand support thy totteriug steps 
And guide tliy darkling way? 

There is a God on high. 
The glorious King of kings 

'Ti3 He to whom thy mother prays. 
Whose love she sits and sings.. 



OF AMERICANS. 527 

Tliat glorious Goil, so kind. 

Has sent his sou to save 
Our luiueil race from sin auJ death, 

And raise tbcm from tlie grave. 

And to that covenant God 

My darling I commend j 
Be thou the lielpless orphan's stay, 

Her Father and her Friend. 

Inspire her infant heart 

The Saviour's love to know, 
And guide her through this dreary world — 

This wilderness of woe. 

Thou sleep'st again, my lamb, 

And heed'st not song nor pr.aycr ; 
Go, sleeping in tliy mother's arms. 

Safe in a mother's care. 

And when in future life 

Thou know'st thy father's tongue. 
These lines will show thee how he felt — 

How o'er his babe he sung. 

During Mr. Judson's incarceration the war had been proceeding with dis- 
astrous results to the Burmese. Nevertheless, they showed no disposition 
to treat for peace. In the beginning of 1825, Sir Archibald Campbell, the 
commander of the British forces, seeing that the war would be indefinitely 
protracted, unless he carried his conquests into the heart of the country, 
resolved to march on Prome. This proceeding on his part, while it intim- 
idated the powers at Ava, caused them to meditate further, if not fatal, 
vengeance on the foreigners whom the}' held in captivity. The effect of 
their designs Mr. Judson was soon made to know. For some time, while 
the other white prisoners had lived in an open shed, he had been permitted 
to occupy a small bamboo room his wife had made for him, in which he was 
much by himself, and whore he had sometimes the privilege of her company 
for two or three hours at a time. One morning in March this little room was 
torn down, and his mat, pillow, etc., taken by his jailors, and himself and 
the other white prisoners thrust into the inner prison, and five pairs of fet- 
ters placed on each. This treatment, though very severe, wa.«, it was af- 
terward found, by no means equal to the dii'ections which had been given 
by persons high in authority. 

Mrs. Judson determined to see the governor, on whom her apjieals had 
been often successful, to know the cause of this new oppression. In the 
morning, on going to his house, she saw his wife, who was ordered to tell 
her "not to ask to have the additional fetters taken off" or the prisoners re- 
leased, for it could not bo done." Nevertheles.s, she resolved to see the 
governor, and in the evening again repjiired to his house. 1'hc interview 
she has thus described : " lie was in his audience room, and, as I entered, 
looked up without speaking, but exhibited a mi.xture of shame and affected 
anger in his counteniince. I began by saying, ' Your lordship has hitherto 



528 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

treated us with the kindness of a father. Our obligations to you are very 
great. We have loolced to you for protection from oppression and cruelty. 
You have in many instances mitigated the sufferings of those unfortunate 
though innocent beings committed to your charge. You have promised me 
particularly that you would stand by me to the la.st, and though you should 
receive an order from the king, you would not put Mr. Judson to death. 
What crime has he committed to deserve such additional punishment?' 
The old man's hard heart was melted, for he wept like a child. 'I pity 
you, Tsa-yar-ga-dau (a name by which he always called me) ; I knew you 
would make me feel; I therefore forbade your application. But you must 
believe me when I say I do not wish to increase the sufferings of the pris- 
oners. When I am ordered to execute them, the least that I can do is to 
put them out of sight. I will now tell you,' continued he, 'what 1 have 
never before told you, that three times I have received intimations from 
the queen's brother to assassinate all the white prisoners privately : but I 
would not do it. And 1 now repeat it, though I execute all the others, I 
will never execute your husband. But I cannot release him from his pres- 
ent confinement, and you must not ask it.' I had never seen him manifest 
so much feeling, or so resolute in denying me a favor, which circumstance 
was an additional reason for thinking dreadful scenes were before us." 

The situation of the prisoners Mrs. Judson describes as "distressing be- 
yond description. It was at the commencement of the hot season. There 
were above a hundred prisoners shut up in one room, without a breath of air, 
excepting from the cracks in the boards. I sometimes obtained permission to 
go to the door for five minutes, when my heart sickened at the wretched- 
ness exhibited. The white prisoners, from incessant perspiration and loss 
of appetite, looked more like the dead than the living. I made daily ap- 
plications to the governor, offering him money, which he refused ; but all 
that I gained was permission for the foreigners to eat their food outside, and 
this continued but a short time.'' 

To the tender frame of Mr. Judson, alrea-''y worn down by his sufferings, 
these added severities were productive of serious consequences. After a 
month's incarceration he was taken with a fever. "I felt assured," Mrs. 
Judson writes, "he would not live long, unless removed from that noisome 
place. The governor, being worn out by my entreaties, at length gave me 
the order, in an official form, to take Mr. J. out of the large prison, and 
place him in a more comfortable situation, and also gave orders to the head 
jailor to allow me to go in and out, all times of the day, to administer med- 
icine, etc. I now felt happy indeed, and had Mr. J. instantly removed 
into a little bamboo hovel, so low that neither of us could stand upright— 
bnt a palace iu comparison to the place he had left." 

Two or three days had been passed in this seeming "palace," when fur- 
ther miseries passed upon them. The most distinguished Burrnan general, 
Bandoola, having been killed in battle, "the pakan woon, who, a few 
month's before, had been so far disgraced by the king as to be thrown into 
prison and irons, now offered himself to head a new army, that should bo 
raised on a different plan from those which had hitherto been raised, and 
assured the king, iu the most confident manner, that he would conquer the 
English, and restoie those places that had been taken, in a very short time." 



OF AMERICANS. 529 

In consequence of liis exaltation to power, an order was issued for the 
removid of llio white prisoners to Ouiig-pen-Ia, some ten or twelve milea 
from Ava. This removal was sudden and unexpected. Mrs. Jiidson, in 
order to visit her husband, was accustomed to carry his food to the prison 
herself. She had brought his breakfast to him one morning, which in con- 
sequence of fever he was unable to take, and had remained longer than 
usual, when she was summoned to visit the governor. Immediately after 
she had gone out, "one of the jailors rushed into Mr. Judson's little room, 
roughly seized him by the arm, pulled him out, stripped him of all his 
clothes except shirt and pantaloons, took his shoes, hat, and all his bod- 
ding, tore oil' his chains, tied a rope around his waist, and dragged him to 
the court-house." Here he was bound to another of his companions in mis- 
ery, and "delivered into the hands of the lamine-woon, who wont on be- 
fore them on horseback, while his slaves drove the i)risoners, one of the 
slaves holding the rope which connected two of them together." la thin 
manner they proceeded on their march. Mrs. Judsou describes it : 

"It \va.s in May, one of the hottest months in the year, and eleven 
o'clock in the day, so that the sun was intolerable indeed. They had pro- 
ceeded only half a mile, when your brother's feet became blistered; and 
so groat was his agony, even at this early period, that as they were crossing 
the little river, he ardently longed to throw himself into the water to be 
free from misery. But the sin attached to such an act alone prevented. 
They had then eight miles to walk. The sand and gravel were like burning 
coals to the feet of the prisoners, which soon became perfectly destitute of 
skin, and in this wretched state they were goaded on by their unfeeling 
drivers, leaving behind, as they passed along, the bloody tracks of their raw 
and lacerated feet." Rome idea of the truthfulness of this description may 
be gained from the fact that Mr. Judson's feet were torn in such a manner 
that for six weeks he was not able to stand. 

It is no wonder, exhausted with the travel to which he was exposed, that 
he thought even the heart of a barbarian might show some sympathy. 
"When about half way on their journey, as they stopped for water, he 
begged the lamine-woon to allow him to ride his horse a mile or two, as 
he could proceed no farther in that dreadful state." 

To this petition "a scornful, malignant look was all the reply that was 
made ;" but nevertheless He who suffereth not a sparrow to fall unnoticed 
to the ground, had provided him a yoke-fellow who was a strong, healthy 
man, and to him, as a companion in misfortune, he applied for help, 
begging to be allowed to "take hold of his shoulder, for he was fast sink- 
ing. This the kind-hearted man granted for a mile or two, but then found 
the additional burden insupportable. Just at that period, Mr. Gouger'a 
Bengalee servant came up to them, and, seeing the distresses of your 
brother, took off his head-dress, which was made of cloth, tore it in two, gave 
half to his master, and half to Mr. Judson, which he instantly wrapped 
round his wounded feet, as they were not allowed to rest even for a mo- 
ment. The servant then offered his shoulder to Mr. Judson, who was al- 
mcst carried the remainder of the way." Through this man's assistance 
he reached the court-house at Amarapoora. 

To one of the prisoners, an old man, named Constantino, a Greek, the 



530 ADVEN'TUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

journey proved fatal. He was taken out of the prison at Ava in perfect 
health, but was so overcome by the sun that he fell down on the way. 
"His inhuman drivers beat and dragged him until they themselves were 
wearied, when they procured a cart, in which he was carried the remaining 
two miles. But the poor creature expired in an hour or two after their ar- 
rival at the court-house." Mr. Judson considered that had it not been for 
the Bengalee servant he should have shared his fate. 

When the company arrived at Amarapoora, the " lamine-woon, seeing 
the distressing state of the prisoners, and that one of their number was 
dead, concluded they should go no farther that night ; otherwise they 
would have been driven on until they reached Ouug-pen-la the same day. 
An old shed wan appointed for their abode during the night, but without 
anything to cover them. The curiosity of the lamine-woon's wife induced 
her to make a visit to the prisoners, whoso wretchedness considerably ex- 
cited her compassion, and she ordered some fruit, sugar, and tamarinds for 
their refreshment; and the next morning, rice was prepared for them, and 
poor as it was, it was refreshing to the prisoners, who had been almost des- 
titute of food the day before." 

None of the prisoners being able to walk, carts were provided, and they 
were thus conveyed to the prison at Oung-pen-la, an old, shattered and 
roofless building. 

In the journey thus taken they were " entirely ignorant of what was to 
become of them, and when they arrived at Oung-pen-la, and saw the dilap- 
idated state of the prison, they immediately, all as one, concluded that 
they were to be burned, agreeably to the report which had been previously 
in circulation at Ava. They all endeavored to prepare themselves for the 
awful scene anticipated, and it was not until they saw preparations making 
for repairing the prison, that they had the doubt that a cruel, lingering 
death awaited them." 

Mr. Judson had been at his new abode but two hours, and was sitting 
under a low projection outside of the prison, probably meditating on the 
sorrows and trials of his noble wife, when on lifting his eyes he saw her 
approaching with her babe. By great perseverance, and after a night of 
indescribable agony she had discovered his destination, and hastened to 
share the sorrows of his new place of captivity. It is not wonderful that, 
with his affection for her, he exclaimed, " Why have you come ? I hoped 
you would not follow, for you cannot live here." 

At Oung-pen-la "the prisoners were at first chained two and two; but 
as soon as the jailors could obtain chains sufficient they were separated, and 
each prisoner had but one pair. While they were coupled, Mr. Judson 
had Dr. Price for his associate. Though the journey proved so fearful an 
ordeal, yet in this new place of captivity he was much more comfortably 
situated than in the city prison. One pair of fetters was used instead of 
three or five, and " when recovered from his fever and wounds he was al- 
lowed to walk in the prison inclosure. In addition to this, "a large airy 
shed" was "erected in front of the prison, where the prisoners were 
allowed to remain during the day, though locked up in a little close prison 
at night." 

This comparative relief did not extend beyond the body. Mrs. Judson 



or AMEraCANS. 531 

has spoken of Ouug-pon-la as " tliat never-to-be-forgotlen place." To her it 
proved the scene of greatest trial ; for her privations far exceeded any slie 
liad been called to endure at Ava. It was, therefore, a place in which her 
husband experienced great mental anguish. Eer sole abode was a little 
filthy room in the jailor's House. This was half filled with grain, and she 
was destitute of even a chair or other household convenience. The morn- 
ing after her arrival a native child whom she had taken with her from xVva 
was seized with the small-pox, and shortly after her infant took the same 
disease, and over three months passed before its recovery. She was herself 
taken sick with a disease peculiar to the country ; and after making a 
journey to Ava with great difiBculty for medicines, returned to crawl on to 
a mat in the jailor's house, and laid sick formore than two months. 

As Mrs. Judson's sickness deprived her child of its usual sustenance, the 
jailor, having been bribed by presents, allowed Mr. Judsou to come out of 
his prison to seek aid in the village. Scarcely is it possible to conceive of 
a more affecting sight than that which was presented when a man whose 
memory all Christendom honors, walked barefooted, in shirt and pantaloons, 
through Oung-pen-la, carrying the little " emaciated creature around the 
village, to beg a little nourishment from those mothers who had young chil- 
dren." 

During all these afflictions, the caprice of the keeper of the prison often 
proved a cause of bitter sorrow. "Sometimes our jailor," Mrs. Judsou 
say.s, " seemed a little softened at our distress, and for several days together 
allowed Mr. Judsou to come to the house, which was to me an unspeaka- 
ble consolation. Then, again, they would be as iron-hearted in their de- 
mands as though we were free from sufferings." Perhaps the reader may 
form some judgment of this iron-heartedness from the statement of Mr. 
Laird, that, to extort money from him, he was foiu' or five times put into 
the stocks, and had to pay four times for the fetters he had on. 

In this incarceration Mr. Judson and his fellow-prisoners escaped the lot 
which was intended for them. The village of Oung-pen-la was the native 
place of the pakan-woon, and it was his intention in sending them thither 
to massacre them at the head of the army, which was to march through 
Oung-pen-la for the purpose. But about a month after he was raised to 
power he was suspected of treason, and put to death by being trod upon 
by elephant-s. 

"While Mr. Judson was detained here, hostilities had been continued, 
and with such success on the part of the British, that the Burmans began 
to find it necessary to negotiate, and a capable interpreter being indispensa- 
ble, an order was issued for him to repair to Ava. Here he was again 
placed in prison, but the next day he was sent to the Burman camp at Ma- 
loun. In going there he was "crowded into a little boat, where ho had 
not room sufficient to lie down, and where his exposure to the cold, damp 
nights threw him into a violent fever, which had nearly ended all his suf- 
ferings, lie arrived at Malouu on the third day, when, ill as he was, he 
was obliged to enter immediately on the work of translating. He remained 
at Maloun six weeks, suffering as much as he had at any time in prison, 
excepting he was not in irons, nor exposed to the insults of those cruel 
jailors." 

31 



532 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

At the end of this time, and witliin five minutes' notice, he was returned 
to Ava. " On his way up the river, he accidentally saw the communica- 
tion made to government respecting him, which was simply this : 'We 
have no further use for Yoodthan ; we therefore return him to the golden 
city.' " Mrs. Judson having heard of his arfival, sent a message to the 
governor of the north gate, who had formerly shown a disposition to oblige 
them, begging him to intercede to prevent his return to prison. He imme- 
diately presented a petition to the high court of the empire, offered him- 
self as Mr. Judson's security, and obtained his release. 

Our missionary no sooner felt himself at liberty, than he directed his way 
to his own former residence. Here he found his heroic companion slowly 
recovering from the spotted fever, which, from its usual fatal character and 
the want of medical assistance, she had expected would prove fatal ; and, 
indeed, so nearly had her expectations been realized, that she had been 
pronounced dead by her attendants. For the satisfaction of his surety, 
Mr. Tudson made his residence with him, and as soon as returning health 
would allow, Mrs. Judson was removed (,here. 

While the events narrated above were taking place, General Campbell, 
wearied with the dissimulation of the Burraan.s, recommenced operations, 
and with his victorious forces was making his way toward the capital. The 
king and his advisers had several times rejected the terms offered by the 
English commander; but they were now greatly humiliated, and, anxious to 
save the "golden city," sought to reopen negotiations. Mr. Judson was en- 
treated to go as their representative to the English camp ; but he declined, 
and advised their .sending Dr. Price, who had no objection to the embas- 
sage. In accordance with this proposition, the latter wa?sent in company 
with Dr. Sandford, an English officer who had been taken prisoner. They 
were not able to induce General Campbell to abate the terms which he 
had offered, any further than procuring permission that the hundred lacs of 
rupees he had demanded should be paid in four installments. In addition 
to this, he gave intimation in strong terms that all the foreign prisoners 
must be surrendered. 

Fresh disasters induced the Burman government to yield to the terms of 
the British general so far as to send Dr. Price with some of the prisoners, 
and with an offer of a part of the money. In his second embassage he 
was, of course, unsuccessful. Meantime the British forces were continuing 
their way, and each day saw them nearer the capital. This decisive move- 
ment filled the Burmans with alarm, and" they determined to make Mr. 
.Tudson their ambassador. He was accordingly t.aken by force and associated 
with Dr. Price. Six lacs of rupees and most of the English prisoners were 
sent down with them. Mr. Judson found, as previously reported, tliat the 
terms must be scrupulously complied with. " The general and commissioner 
would not receive the six lacs, neither would they stop their march ; but 
promised if the sum complete reached them before they arrived at Ava, they 
would make peace. The general also commissioned Mr. Judson to collect 
the remaining foreigners, of whatever country, and ask the question, before 
the Burmese government, whether they wished to go or stay. Those who 
expressed a wish to go should be delivered up immediately, or peace would 
not be made." 



OF AMERICANS. 533 

SatisfieJ that further dissimu'.ation and delay must jirovu liazardous, the 
Burmaus determined to yield all demands. 

Xou- came the time of deliverance. Mrs. Jiidsou says: "lu two days 
from the time of Mr. Judson's rotiirii, we took au affectionate leave of the 
good-natured officer who had so long entertained us at his house, and who 
now accompanied us to the water-side, and we then left forever the hanks 
of Ava. 

It was a cool moonlight evening in the month of February, that, with 
hearts filled with gratitude to God, and overflowing with joy at our pros- 
pects, we passed down the Irrawaddy, surrounded by sis or eight golden 
boats, and accompanied by all we bad on earth. The thought that we bad 
still to pass the Burman camp would sometimes occur to damp our joy ; 
for we feared that some obstacle might there arise to retard our progress. 
Xor were we mistaken in our conjectures. We reached the camp about 
midnight, where we were detained two hours, the woon-gayee and high 
officers insisting that we should wait at the camp, while Dr. Price, who did 
not return to Ava with your brother, but remained at the camp, should go 
on with the money, and first ascertain whether peace would be made. The 
Burmese government still entertained the idea that, as soon as the English 
had received the money and prisoners, they would continue their march, 
and yet destroy the capital. We knew not but that some circumstance 
might occur to break off the negotiations. Mr. Judsou therefore stren- 
uously insisted that he would not remain, but go on immediately. The 
officers were finally prevailed on to consent, hoping much from Mr. 
Judson's a.ssistance in making peace. 

We now for the first time for more than a year and a half felt that we 
were free, and no longer subject to the oppressive yoke of the Burmese. 
And with what sensations of delight on the next morning did I behold the 
masts of the steamboat, the sure presage of being within the bounds of civ- 
ilized life ! As soon as our boat reached the shore, Brigadier A. and an- 
other officer came on board, congratulated us on our arrival, and invited us 
on board the steamboat, where I passed the remainder of the day, while 
your brother went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment of the 
army, had encamped at Randabo, a few miles farther down the river. Mr. 
Judson returned in the evening, with an invitation from Sir Archibald to 
come immediately to his quarters, where I was the next morning intro- 
duced, and received with the greatest kindness by the general, who had a 
tent pitched for us near his own, took us to his own table, and treated us 
with the kindness of a father, rather than as strangers of another country." 

Two days after their arrival at Yandabo, the treaty of peace was signed, 
and the following day Mr. Judson wrote once more to America. It may 
gratify the reader to peruse his account, so Paul-like in its terse enumera- 
tion of afflictions : 

British Camp, Yandabo, Fehruanj 25, 1826. 

Reverend and Dear Sir : — We survive a scene of suffering which, on 
retrospect at the present moment, seems not a reality, but a horrid dream. 
We are occupying a tent in the midst of Sir Archibald Campbell's staff, 
and receiving from him .ind other British officers all manner of kind atten- 
tions, proportionate to the barbarities we have endured for nearly two years. 



53J: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

I was seized on the 8th of June, 1824, in consequence of the war with 
Bengal, and, in company with Dr. Price, three Englishmen, one Armenian, 
and one Greek, was thrown into the "death prison" at Ava, where we 
lay eleven months — nine months in three pairs, and two months in five 
pairs of fetters. The scenes we witnessed and the sufferings we underwent 
during that period I would fain consign to oblivion. From the death prison 
at Ava we were removed to a country prisou, at Oiing-pnn-la, ten miles dis- 
tant, under circumstances of such severe treatment that one of our number, the 
Greek, exjiired on the road, and some of the rest, among whom was myself, 
were scarcely able to move for several days. It was the intention of gov- 
ernment, in removing us from Ava, to have us sacrificed, in order to insure 
victory over the foreigners ; but the sudden disgrace and death of the ad- 
visor of that measure prevented its execution. I remained in the Oung- 
pen-la prison six months in one pair of fetters, at the expiration of which 
period I was taken out of irons, and sent under a strict guard to the Bur- 
mese head-quarters at Maloun, to act as interpreter and translator. Two 
months more elapsed, when, on my return to Ava, I was released at the in- 
stance of Moung Shaw-loo, the north governor of the palace, and put 
under his charge. During the six weeks I resided with him, the affairs of 
government became desperate, the British troops making steady advances 
on the capital ; and after Dr. Price had been twice dispatched to negotiate 
for peace (a business which I declined as long as possible), I was taken by 
force and associated with him. We found the British above Piigan, and on 
returning to Ava with their final terms, I had the happiness of procuring 
the release of the very last of my fellow-prisoners ; and on the 21st inst. 
obtained the reluctant consent of government to my final departure from 
Ava with Mrs. Judson. 

On my first imprisonment, the small house which I had just erected was 
plundered, and everything valuable confiscated. Mrs. Judson, however, 
was allowed to occupy the place, which she did until my removal to Oung- 
pen-la, whither she followed. Subsequently to that period she was twice 
brought to the gates of the grave ; the last time with the spotted fever, while 
I was absent at Maloun. She had been senseless and motionless several days, 
when the providential release of Dr. Price at the very last extremity gave an 
opportunity for such applications as were blessed to her relief. On mj' return 
I was astonished to find her in the most emaciated, helpless state, not hav- 
ing heard a word of her illness. She, however, rapidly recovered, and is 
now in perfect health. Even little Maria, who came into the world a few 
months after my imprisonment, to aggravate her parents' woes, and who 
has been, from verj' instinct it would seem, a poor, sad, crying thing, begins 
to brighten up her little face, and be somewhat sensible of our hajipy de- 
liverance. 

The treaty of peace was signed yesterday by the respective ]iIenipoten- 
tiaries, according to the terms of which, the province of Arracau, and the 
small provinces of Ya Tavoy and Mergui in the south are ceded to the 
British. It was this consideration chiefly that induced me vo embrace the 
first opportunity of leaving Ava, where the only object I had in settling 
was to obtain some toleration for the Christian, religion — a favor which I 
hope now to enjoy without leave from his golden-footed majesty. 



OF AMERICANS. 535 

Sir Archibald has assigned us a hirge gun-boat for our accommodation 
down the river, and we expect to leave this iu a very few days. 

Respectfully yours, A. Judson." 
Eev. Dr. Baldwin. 

Mr. and Mrs. Judson remained iu the British camp a fortnight. At the 
end of that time, with a most grateful sense of the kindness of Sir Archi- 
bald Campbell and his officers, they resumed their voyage down the river in 
the boat provided for them. On the 22d of March, Mrs. Judson was able 
to write : " We have safely arrived in Rangoon, and once more find our- 
selves in the old mission-house ! What shall we render to the Lord for all 
his mercies ?" 

Thus, after an absence of two years and three months, our missionary 
returned to the same place of abode ho had occupied previous to the war. 

The little flock of disciples at Rangoon was scattered, and several of 
them were dead. Ths survivors removed with their teachers, in the sum- 
mer of 1826, to Amherst, a new town, near the mouth of the Salwen, iu 
British Burmah- Here Mr. Judson hoped to devote himself unreservedly 
to missionary work. But at the solicitation of Mr. Crawford, commissioner 
of the British East Indian government, he aaeompauied an embassy to Ava 
for negotiating a commercial treaty, to procure, if possible, the insertion of 
a guaranty for religious freedom iu the king's dominions. This, which 
alone reconciled him to so long an absence from his chosen work, and from 
a home that claimed his presence more imperatively than he conceived, en- 
tirely failed, and after several months' detention he returned to Amherst, — 
to find bis house desolate. Mrs. Judson, very soon after his departure, bad 
been seized with a fever that her enfeebled constitution was ill-fitted to re- 
sist, and sunk into the grave after an illness of eighteen days. The dread- 
ful tidings were conveyed to him at Ava, — the more insupjportable because 
he was wholly unprepared for them, his last intelligence having assured 
him of her perfect health. From the native Christians who surrounded 
her death-bed, and the physician, who did all that skill could do for her re- 
covery, he heard of the celestial peace that sustained her departing spirit. 
His only child soon followed her mother, and he was left a solitary mourner. 
His cup of sorrow seemed full. The heart which had sustained all that 
barbarian cruelty could inflict, was wcU-nigh crushed bj' this total bereave- 
ment. 

Though the life of Mrs. Judson was, as it seemed, prematurely closed, 
it was long enough to exhibit a character which, in some of its elements, 
has no parallel in female biography. Capacities for exertion and endurance, 
such as few men have brought to great enterprises, were united to the most 
engaging feminine qualities, fitting her at once to cheer the domestic retire- 
ment of her husband, and to share his most overwhelming trials and dan- 
gers. The record of her deeds and sufferings has moved the hearts of 
myriads, in this and otlier lands, and her memory is immortal as the sym- 
pathies of our common humanity. 

But the bereaved missionary sank not in inconsolable grief. Looking to 
the eternal hills for help, he nerved himself anew to the fullillinei.t of his 
appointed ministry. Mr. and Mrs. \Vudc had reached Amherst shortly be- 



536 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

fore the return of Mr. Judson from Ava, and with them Rev. George D. 
Boardraan and wife, who had arrived in Bengal during the war. Besides 
the original population of British Burmah, the provinces were the resort of 
constant emigration, and Amherst grew rapidly into a considerable town. 
But the o-overnment was soon transferred to Maulmain, on the east bank of 
the Salwen, about tvventj'-five miles from its mouth. The mission follow'ed 
in the course of the year 1827, and has since been permanently established 
in that city. 

There the work went rapidly forward. Schools were set up, two or three 
houses of worship were opened, and during the years 1827 and 1828, between 
thirty and forty converts were added to the church. The Tavoy station was 
commenced b\- Mr. Boardman, under wliose auspices Christianity began to be 
communicated to the Karens, among whom it has since made such progress 
as to astonish the Christian world. Mr. Judson continued at Maulmain till 
the summer of 1830. Besides the ordinary duties of preaching and teach- 
ing, he thoroughly revised the New Testament, and prepared twelve smaller 
works in the Burmese. In the spring of 1830, Mr. Wade visited Rangoon, 
the success of a native preacher having made the presence of a missionary 
desirable. His health did not admit of a residence in that climate, and Mr. 
Judson, who had not ceased t» cherish a deep interest in the progress of 
Christianity in Burmah Proper, repaired thither in May. He found a pre- 
valent spirit of inquiry, and resolved to penetrate into the interior. He 
accordingly went up the Irrawadi to Prome. His boat at every lauding 
was visited by persons eager for books. Converts whom he had lost sight 
of lor years greeted him at one or two places as he passed, and he heard 
of the conversion of others whom he had never seen, but who had derived 
their knowledge of the truth indirectlj' from his instructions. For a month 
or two he had numerous auditors, a few of whom seemed to have cordially 
received the word. Theu came a sudden and mysterious reaction. The 
zayat was nearly deserted. Peoj^le seemed afraid to converse with him. 
This state of things continuing till autumn, he regarded his work in 
Prome as finished for the present, and returned to Rangoon, confident that 
the now rejected truth would bear fruit in due season. It appeared that 
the king had given orders for his expulsion, but that the governor, under 
the inflvience of some unaccountable awe, had not ventured to execute 
them. 

At Rangoon he gave himself to the translation of the entire Scriptures. 
Ee shut himself into an upper chamber, leaving a native evangelist to re- 
ceive inquirers, admitting only the most promising to his own apartment. 
In spite of the known displeasure of the king, nearly half his time was ab- 
sorbed in these interviews. The spirit of inquiry deepened and widened 
through all the surrounding country. During the great festival in honor of 
Gaudama, held near the close of the following winter, there were as many 
as six thousand applications at his house for tracts. Some came from the 
borders of Siam or the far north, saying, " Sir, we have seen a writing that 
tells about an eternal God. Are you the man that gives away such writ- 
ings ? Pray, give us one, for we want to know the truth before we die ?" 
Or some from the interior, who had barely heard the name of the Saviour, 
would say, "Are you Jesus Christ's man ? Give us a writing that tells 



OF AMERICANS. 537 

about Jesus Christ." The press at Mauhiiaiii wciked day and uighl, but 
could not meet the demauds from all quarters. 

In the summer of ]831, in consequence of the infirm state of Mr. 
Wade's health, he removed to Maulmain, and Mr. Wade, after a few months' 
respite, took his place at Rangoon. At Maulmain Mr. Judson prosecuted 
the work of translation, but still preached in the cit}' and the jungles. On 
the last day of January, 1834, he completed the task with which he might 
have rejoiced to seal up his earthly mission, — the Bible in the Burmese 
language. No words can more titly describe the emotions of that hour 
than his own : "Thanks to God, I can now say, I have attained. I have 
knelt down before Him, with the last leaf in my hand, and imploring his 
forgiveness for all the sins which have polluted my labors in this depart- 
ment, and his aid in removing the errors and imperfections which necessa- 
rily cleave to the work, I have commended it to his mercy and grace. I 
have dedicated it to his glory. May he make his own inspired word, now 
complete in the Burman tongue, the grand instrument in filling all Burmah 
with songs of praise to our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen." 
Few, comparatively, of the myraids in whose behalf the great work was 
undertaken, had a thought of the sublime transaction of that hour, and 
none but he to whoso supreme glory it was dedicated, could fully appre- 
hend the ultimate issues of the event. The kneeling missionary alone, 
with the last leaf of the translated Bible, humbly and gratefully offering 
it before the Divine Majesty, has been suggested as a subject for the pencil. 
But he must be an artist elevated to more than a common measure of 
celestial sympathy, who shall worthily represent to our senses a triumph 
so purely spiritual. 

In April of this year Mr. Judson was united in marriage with Mrs. 
Boardman ; who, after the lamented death of her husband, had given her- 
self with unyielding devotion to the blessed work in which he so triumph- 
antly passed away, and through all her missionary career showed a spirit 
nearly kindred to that of the "ministering angel" to the prisoners of Ava. 

For some, years he was engaged in the revision of the Scriptures, divid- 
ing his time between this and the superintendence of the native church at 
Maulmain. The steady increase of the churches in numbers and in knowl- 
edge was an ample reward for all his toils, while the reinforcement of the 
missions, and their extension into Siam and Assam, filled him with glad- 
ness in the prospect of the future. The arrival of fourteen missionaries in 
1836, accompanied by Rev. Dr. Malcom, who was commissioned by the 
Board to their stations in Asia, w.as an occasion of special joy. The con- 
ferences held, plans devised, the recollections and hopes awakened at this 
season, must have made it memorable to them all. Since the lonely pio- 
neer landed in doubt and apprehension at Rangoon, more than twenty years 
of labor and suffering had passed over his head. Not one witness of his 
earlier struggles, not one sharer of his many fears and sorrows and of their 
precious compensations, stood by his side. But a host, coniparativoly, had 
succeeded, to carry forward by their united strength the work begun in 
weakness, and not loss than a thousand souls redeemed from the bondage 
of idolatr)' attested the divine presence and benediction. 

In 1838 his enfeebled health compelled a change of air, and he visited 



538 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Bengal. But the ardor of his spirit drove him baclv to his station without 
anj' visible change for the better. The Board invited him to visit the 
United States, which he gratefully but firml}' declined. The revision of 
the Scriptures was finished in 1840, and a second edition was put to press. 
A recent writer in the Calcutta Review, understood to be well qualified to 
pass judgment in this matter, hazards " the prediction, that as Luther's 
Bible is now in the hands of Protestant Germany, so, three centuries hence, 
Judson's Bible will be the Bible of the Christian churches of Burmah." In 
the summer of 18il he found it needful, for the sake of his family and 
himself, to make another voyage. They went to Bengal, where he was 
compelled to bury his youngest child, proceeded to the Isle of France, and 
thence returned to Maulmaiu, where they arrived, much invigorated, in 
December. 

The nest year saw him engaged in another important undertaking, — the 
compilation of a complete dictionary of the Burmese language. He was 
reluctant to be diverted from his ministerial labors by any further literary 
tasks, but yielded to the solicitation of the Board, and to a conviction of 
the importance of the work. His plan contemplated two complete vocab- 
ularies — Burmese and English, and English and Burmese. It was inter- 
rupted by the illness of Mrs. Judson. A voyage along the Tenasserim 
coast proved ineiJectual for her recovery, and in the spring of 1845 her 
helpless state appeared to demand a visit to the United States. In an- 
nouncing this purpo.se Mr. .Tudson warned the Board that he must not be 
expected to address public assemblies as the weakness of his lungs forbade 
such exertion, and for a reason which shall be stated in his own words : 
"In order to become an acceptable and eloquent preacher in a foreign 
language, I deliberately abjured my own. When I crossed the river, I 
burnt my ships. From long desuetude, I can scarcely put three sentences 
together in the English language." Taking with him his family, and two 
native assistants to carry forward his dictionary during his visit, he em- 
barked for Boston on the 26th of April. On arriving at Mauritius, Mrs. 
Judson was so far revived that it was thought she might safely proceed 
without her husband. The assistants were sent back, and he was about to 
follow them, but the day before her reembarkation she suffered a relapse, 
which determined him to go on with her. She grew weaker from day to 
day, and it seemed that she must find a grave iu the deep, but her life was 
spared till they reached St. Helena. With an uncloudy prospect for the 
heavenly felicity, her soul parted serenely from earth and all earthly ties. 
Her mortal remains were committed to the dust on the first of September, 
and the twice-widowed missionary tore himself away, to guide his mother- 
less children to the land of their fathers. 

He arrive I at Boston on the 15th of October. A thrill of solemn and 
grateful emotion was felt in every part of the land, and found expression 
in countless forms. On the evening of the third day after he landed, a 
large assembly was gathered, and the venerable President of the Board, 
Rev. Dr. Sharp, addressed him iu appropriate words of welcome. More 
touching was the hearty embrace of Rev. Samuel Nott, jr., from whom he 
had parted more than thirty years before ; who had privately and publicly 
attested his unabated Christian affection since the change that caused their 



OF AMERICANS. 539 

paths to diverge ; who heard, in his enforced retirement from missionary 
service, of the arrival of his youthful associate and honored colleague, and 
had hastened to greet him. Pressing through the congregation, ho made 
liimself known. Who can guess what thoughts of the past crowded their 
minds and subdued their hearts, at this unloolied-for meeting ! 

Mr. Judson attended a special meeting of the Baptist General Conven- 
tion, called together in consequence of the separation of the Southern 
churches — his first interview with a body called into existence by his in- 
strumentality, — and there received a more formal and memorable welcome. 
Though forbidden to speak in public, a proposition to abandon the Arracan 
mission drew from his lips a fervent protest, which, seconded by other 
missionaries present, determined the Convention to retain all their stations 
iu the east. By other public assemblies in the principal cities, ho vvas 
received in a manner that told how deeply the story of his labors and suf- 
ferings had imprinted itself on the hearts of the people. Thus attracting 
to himself the afi'ectionate sympathy of thousands, and kindling higher, by 
his presence, the flame of missionary zeal, refreshing his spirit by the 
amenities of friendship, and recalling the memories of youth by visiting its 
most cherished scenes, he continued in the land of his nativity till the 11th 
of July, 1846, when he once more set his face toward the field of his strug- 
gles and triumphs. He went not alone. A third gentle spirit gave her af- 
fections to soothe and her energies to sustain his soul, in the years of labor 
and suffering that awaited him. This was Miss Emily Chubbuck, of TJtica, 
Xew York, a lady, widely known to literary circles as "Fanny Forester," 
to whom he was married in June, 1846. Several new missionaries accom- 
panied them, and they arrived safely at Maulmain in December. 

A revolution having taken place in Burraah, Mr. Judson removed to 
Rangoon, the only city in the king's dominions where foreigners were per- 
mitted to reside. He found it impossible to do anything efBciently unless 
he could obtain some countenance at Ava, but having no means at his dis- 
posal to undertake the journey at that time, he was obliged to resign all 
hope in that quarter, and go back to Maulmain, and to his dictionary. Be- 
side his literary tasks, he assumed the pastoral care of the Burmau Church, 
and preached once on a Sabbath. In these pursuits he continued with his 
wonted diligence, till disease laid its hand upon him in the autumn of 
1849. 

A severe cold iu the month of September was followed by a fever that 
prostrated his strength. A voyage on the coast and sea-bathing at Amherst 
failed to restore his wasted energies, and he returned to Maulmain in a de- 
clining state. His sufferings were extreme, but his mind was peaceful, and 
his habitual conversation was filled with the spirit of heaven. " The love 
of Christ" was his absorbing theme, and love to his brethren in Clirist dwelt 
on his lips and breathed in his constant prayers. Though ready to depart, 
if so it should please God, he yet longed to do more for Burmah, — to 
finish the wearisome toil of literary investigation, and spare a few years for 
the delightful work of preaching to the heathen. For this his exhausted 
nature struggled to the last, and when all hope of recovery at Maulmain 
was lost, on the third of April, 1850, he bade farewell to his anxious com- 
panion, whose feeble health forbade her to accompany him, and with a 



540 ADVENTURES AKD ACHIEVEMENTS 

single altenJaut set out ou a voj-age for the Isle of Bourbon. The passaga 
down the river was slow, and he ncarlj' sunk under the combined force of 
disease and the suffocating atmosphere. Once upon the sea he revived, 
and the pilot-boat bore back a message full of hope. The relief was mo- 
mentary. For three days he endured iudescribable sufferings that extorted 
from his lips the exclamation, " that I could die at once, and go directly to 
Paradise, whore there is no pain !" To the que.stion whether he felt the 
presence of the Saviour, he quickly replied, "0, yes ; it is all right, there ! 
I believe He gives me just so much pain and suffering as is necessary to fit 
me to die, — to make me submissive to his will." For the last day and a 
half his agonies were dreadful to behold. In this state ho continued till a 
few minutes before the going out of life. Then be was culm, and appa- 
rently free from pain. His last words were in remembrance of her from 
whom he had parted in so much uncertainty a few days before, and a hur- 
ried direction for his burial. Then, gradually sinking, he " fell asleep " on 
the afternoon of April 12th, and his mortal remains were committed to the 
deep, thence to be raised incorruptible, when the sea shall give up its dead. 
Smith's " History of the Heroes and Martyrs of the Modern Missionary 
Enterprise," from which much of this sketch is derived, says, that Mr. 
Judsou combined in his experience the toils and sufferings of a missionary 
pioneer, willi the ablest rewards of missionary success. Often have men, in 
a spirit of heroic courage and constancy, struggled with tlie first, and de- 
parted without enjoying the last. But he who under cover of twilight 
baptized the first Burman convert, lived to see twenty-six churches gath- 
ered with nearly five thousand communicants, the entire Bible in one ver- 
nacular, and the New Testament in others ; and the missions, by the aid 
of a regular native ministrj-,' extending on every side. Ho was not required 
to look for the confirmation of his faith to promise and prophecy alone, but 
was permitted to enjoy in his lifetime a fullness of success exceeding his 
fondest hopes. 



THE CONDUCT 

OF 

Ol/E COUNTRY AND COUNTRYMEN 

IS THEIE DIFFICULTIES WITH 

AUSTRIA AND TIJE AUSTRIANS. 

CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THE ARREST AND IMPEISONMENT OF AN 

AMERICAN IN HUNGARY THE CORRESPONDENCE OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 

THE AMERICAN SECRETARY OF STATE, WITH CHEVALIER HULSEMAN, THE 
AUSTRIAN MINISTER- — AMERICAN INTERVENTION IN BEHALF OF, AND 
HOSPITALITY TO, THE HUNGARIAN EXILES, AND THE 

HEROISM OF CAPTAIN INGRAHAI IN THE KOSTA AFFAIR. 



Adstbia is an odious Dame to an American, for it is associated with a 
government jierhaps tine most crafty in policy ; the most treacherous iu ad- 
ministration, of all the despotisms that claim authority " by the Grace of 
God and the Divine Right of Kings " to rule over men. Scarce one bright 
spot in all her course, scarce one magnanimous act in any of her rulers can 
be found to relieve the disgraceful page of her annals. 

When the Hungarians attempted to throw off her yoke, the great heart 
of this nation beat in sympathy with that heroic people, and joy ran through 
all the land as tidings of victory after victory over the infamous House of 
Hapsburg reached it from across the blue ocean. It was succeeded by sor- 
row most poignant, when at last it became known that the gallant nation 
had gone down, under the combined armies of allied despots from without 
and by treachery from within — the sad history finally ending in the cold- 
blooded murder of her bravest generals after their surrender, victims to the 
vengeance of a tyranny that spared not old age in its whitening hairs, not 
even the maiden in her youthful beauty. 

It was the intense interest of our people in the Hungarian cause, 
which led to the occurrences we are about to relate. They form a part of 
our history — aside events, it is true, but "touches" that by their form and 
coloring indicate character with as much precision as tliose affairs which, 
looming up in great proportions, strike at the first liurrying glance. 

We need never despair of our own country when her millions can thus be 
aroused to sympathize in the efforts of a gallant nation for freedom ; for it 
shows that the spirit of Liberty is the first love in American bosoms, and 
while this is so, whatever disasters may befall can be but temporary in the 
long years which God gives to the life of nations. 

(541) 



5i2 ADVENTURES AisD ACHIEVEMENTS 

AEREST AND IMPRISONMENT OP A YOUNQ AMERICAN IN HDNQARY, BY THE 
OFFICIALS OP AUSTRIA. 

Just after the great struggle of the Hungarian nation for independenco 
had closed so disastrouslj', and a wail of sorrow was ascending from all the 
land, an American traveler entered their country to learn by personal inter- 
course, more of this unfortunate people. Charles Loring Brace was a young 
man of education, then in Europe to engraft upon the solid structure of 
scholastic culture, the graces of the varied knowledge that travel brings. He 
found in Hungary all which, as a republican, he had longed to see on the con- 
tinent — "a nation educated practically for freedom, passionately loving 
it, ready to peril all to gain it — a nation, too, of singularly generous and 
manly character." No American gentlemen before had ever been. known to 
have mingled in their social life, and all that had come to us respecting that 
distant people was as uncertain and unreliable as the coloring of romance. 
His book, "Hungary in 18.51" is a beautifully written tribute to the virtues 
of a people of such pride of nationality that no stronger indignation at an 
unworthy proposal can be expressed than in the simple utterance — " I am 
A Hungarian ! " 

Mr. Brace entered Hungary in the spring, and at once penetrated to the 
heart of the country. It was just after the first band of exiles under Gov- 
ei-nor Ujhazy, had reached America, and he found the few acts of kindness 
from his countrymen to those unfortunate men keenly appreciated. Wher- 
ever it was known that he was an American, he was welcomed with a pas- 
sionate fervor that showed the intense feeling of those people. " We con- 
sider your countrymen," said they, " as our friends ; you have given us your 
sympathy and aid, and the time will never come when our homes will not 
be open to you." He relates a touching instance of this appreciation which 
occurred at a large and refined dinner company: "We had been chatting 
pleasantly at the meal," says he, " when suddenly the host arose — a cour- 
teous and dignified old man, with head whitened, and forehead furrowed 
by the sufierings of himself and his famih', in the Hungarian cause, and 
proposed the health of 'their American guest,' and accompanied it with 
a speech ; I cannot remember it exactly, but he spoke in deep, feeling 
tones of the degradation of their country — of how much they had hoped 
for her, and how much was lost — of the gloomy future for them and their 
children, for years to come. Then he alluded to the exiles — ' Sir,' said he, 
'when our countrymen were beggared and homeles.s, you Americans shel- 
tered them — you have opened your houses to them — you have given them 
money and land — and most of all, you have remembered that they were 
sufferers in the same cause with you — you have given them your sympathy. 
May God bless you and j'our country for this ! I am but an humble Hun- 
garian, but tell your countrymen from me, that if there is any man in thia 
land who will not open his hearth and home, and all he has to the Amer- 
ican stranger, lie is not loorthy to be called a Hungarian ! ' 

It was the very company which you would expect not to show any signs 
of feeling ; polite, accomplished, nearly all ' people of the world.' Yet, wheth- 
er it was the appearance and tones of the old man, which seemed to speak 
of the nameless sufferings that had beaten over him ; or whether it was the 



OF AMERICANS. 543 

thought of tho unhappy fortunes of their counfry and of the homeless exiles, 
I could not avoid noticing, in the solemn stillness after the speech, that tears 
vere coursing down many a cheek. When would ever an Anglo-Saxon 
dinner-party, gentle or simple, allow itself to be caught away into such au 
indulgence of feeling?" 

On another occasion, while examining the buildings of the university at 
Debreczin in Inner Hungary, he was invited into one of the halls where the 
students were .about to sing some na'tional songs. The enthusiasm with 
which he was received must have been exceedingly gratifying to him, es- 
pecially as he had but recently graduated at one of our universities — Yale. 
But here is his story: 

"I followed them, and quite unexpectedly found myself in a large con- 
cert-hall, before a crowd of people, who welcomed me with an E!jen ! 
\hurrah!'\ which made the walls ring again. At the other end of the room 
was a full choir of students. It appeared my friends wished to give me a 
little pleasant surprise, and had prepared this concert of the Hungarian 
music for the purpose. The choir, composed of men and boys, was remark- 
ably well trained ; and they evidentlj' sang with an excitement and inter- 
est unusual. 

The songs wero mostly of Hungary — her beauty and glory, their love and 
devotion to her, and, with the plaintive tone, peculiar to Hungarian music, 
seemed darkly forboding future calamity to her. Without doubt, the pres- 
ence of one from that nation who had welcomed the Hungarian exiles, and 
had alone sympathized with her cause, gave a reality to their expressions of 
feeling, which nothing otherwise could. And, as tho deep voices swelled 
and thrilled over the words which sjioke of their 'beautiful F.atherland,' 
their love unquenchable for her, their ' hopes with her to die,' I could 
scarcely restrain my tears. I seemed to be listening to the Jews singing 'the 
songs of Zion in a strange land.' And at length as the chorus of their fa- 
vorite song, 

' Zu. deinem Valtrland bleib ' To thy country remain 

Unerschutterlich treu! ' Unshakingly true ! ' 

arose, and swelled, and was echoed again and again, with passionate tone 
and te.arful eye, from every man and child in the room, it seemed to me 
that they, in this time of their country's gloom and misfortune, were send- 
ing forth by the stranger, to other lands, their vows of unshaken fidelity 
and love. 

Kcarly .all the Hungarian airs open in a low, plaintive measure, and grad- 
ually increase in force and wildness as they go on. This plaintive tone 
through nearly all tho Hungarian music, and even in the sound of tho lan- 
guage, as it first strikes upon the ear of the stranger, is very remarkable. I 
have often sat listening in the drawing-rooms, to the songs or tho conversa- 
tion, and wondered whether there was not something ominous — prophetic — 
of the future of the nation, in this lone of sadness so peculiar to the Hun- 
garian. It is very strange and interesting to the traveler, everywhere in 
Hungary, to observe how these national songs are remembered and sung. 
In many places they are forbidden, but the people will sing them. I re- 
member that in one family I hoard a young lady sing one of these songs 



54i ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

with such an extreme enthusiasm, that I had apprehensions for a little while 
she was becoming insane. 

Among the airs which I heard at this concert, some of the best wero 
connected with the most unmeaning words. There is one celebrated air, 
with a singularly beautiful though somewhat monotonous refrain, beginning 

' Hortobagy piizta ! ' 

where the only idea whicu I could find conveyed was 

' Over the prairie 
Over the prairie 

Blows the wind ! ' 

The life on the puztas, or prairies, and the adventures and loves of the 
CsOiOsses, or half-wild cattle-drivers upon them, seemed to form one of the 
most favorite themes in these airs. 

After the concert was over, I expressed my thanks, and turned to go out, 
when I found a long lane opened in the crowd, through which I passed, un- 
der vociferous Eljms, looking as meekly as a modest man could at such an 
unexpected reception." 

In another place he says, 

"I had received a beautiful note in English from a lady this morning, re- 
questing me to call upon her, as she ' wished to know one of that noble 
nation wdio sheltered the exiles from Hungary.' I called and she addressed 
me at once in English. In the course of the conversation, with character- 
istic Hungarian eloquence of tone she burst forth, 'Did you know it, sir? 
We meant to have a republic like yours. Gorgey was our Arnold. If it 
had not been for him, we should have been free. 0, if you could have 
seen our armies as they marched through here ! How proud they wero, 
how hopeful and strong ! And now they are gone ! But they were ready, 
and no one' feared to die for his country. And to think it was all for 
nothing ! ' " 

The intense manner in which this lady expressed herself indicated but 
the depth of the national depression at their great misfortune.. It was 
shown in various ways. 

"I have been in," says Mr. Brace, "a most sensible and cultivated family, 
where all the ladies were dressed in Hack for their country, and where they 
wore small iron bracelets — almost as heavy as handcuffs — on their wrists, in 
memory of the solitary prisoners of Arad and Temeswer. I have seen, too, 
often in Hungary, bits of the brooms with which Haynau was beaten, 
brought over by some one, put up in handsome gold settings, and worn as 
pins by the ladies ! And there is scarcely a family in the country without 
the little bracelets worked by the Hungarian prisoners, and marked with the 
first letters of the names of the Generals who were executed by the Aus- 
trians, in this way — ' P. V. D. T. N. A. K. L. S.' — which can also be read, 
' Panonnia Vergisst Deinen Tod Me; Als lOager Leben Sie!' (Hungary for- 
gets thy death never ! As accusers they shall live !) It is a penal offense, 
by the way, wearing these now. It would be difficult for any one of the 
cool Anglo-Saxon blood to credit the instances I met with constantly here 
of this intensity of feeling, on political matters. It is well known that at 



OF AMERICANS. 545 

the treacherous surrender at Vilngos, many of the private soldiers shot them- 
selves through the brain in the bitterness of their despair. The number 
of cases of insanity after the Austrian victory, beginning with that of one 
of their most lamented and distinguished leaders, would be incredible. 
The almost dramatic coolness and bravery with which the Hungarians died 
on the scaffold and the gallows, after this late Revolution, would hardly be 
credib'o. There were several instances of insanity previous to the execu- 
tion, but not a solitary one of fear during them. Many went forth before 
the file of soldiers, with a cigar in their mouth. One of the bravest of 
the thirteen generals shot at Arad, was reserved to the last, while, the 
others were executed. ' I was alwaijs first in the attack,' said he, 'lohy am 
I last here?'" 

Without further preliminaries we pass over to the circumstances of the 
arrest and imprisonment of Mr. Brace. This occurred at the city of Gros 
Wardein, one of the great military stations for the Austrians in Hungary. 
On the day of his arrival he was taking dinner with a friend in the dining 
room of a hotel, when the latter, perhaps to show that he had an American 
as an acquaintance, asked Mr. Brace about Ujhazy's Hungarian colony in 
Iowa. The latter answered in a general way, and rather avoided conver- 
sation from a kind of mistrust of two men who sat at the table. The next 
day, in the midst of a pleasant conversation at a dinner party, be was inter- 
rupted by the entrance of a little gentleman in black followed by a gens 
d'arme. The small gentleman announced himself as the " Chief of Police," 
with a warrant for his arrest, and the examination of his papers, on the 
charge of his having "Proclamations! " 

The gens d'arme first took him to the house of the friend with whom he 
was stopping, where he found a sentinel already stationed, and all his 
writing and books collected for the examination of the police. Prom the 
gens d'arme he learned that a warrant had been issued for him w ithin six 
hours of his arrival, and that ho had been searching for him from that time. 
The soldier finally drove him to an old castle outside of the city, used as a 
prison. 

"As we rode through the heavy old arched gateway," says Mr. Brace, 
" into the court within, I looked around curiously at the grim walls, and 
could not but feel a momentary heart-sinking, when I remembered how far 
I was from friend or aid, and how many a hopeful man had entered such 
a prison in the Austrian states, never to come forth again." 

On his entrance the officer asked why he was there. " I have not the 
slightest idea," he replied. " I suppose because I am an American." The 
officer then thoroughly searched him, taking from him all his money, every 
scrap of paper, and leaving him only his watch and toothpick, and then he 
w.as conducted to a miserably lighted, dirty cell, in which was a common 
Ilonved, convicted of carrying a false pass, and a tailor imprisoned for pos- 
sessing a concealed weapon. To his remonstrance against such quarters, 
the officer replied that it was according to orders, and that it would be "a 
part of his experience as a traveler," and then bade him Gxte Nacht! 

In a few moments a friendly voice called through the key-hole of the ad- 
ioining room, begging him, "not to be blue, for it was always hard at first." 
Mr. Brace slept little that night. At one time he thought it all a mis- 



5iG ADVEXTUKES AND ACUIEVEMEXTS 

tako, and that ho shouW K> roloasod tho next ilay ; then again, it soonicd to 
him as if thoro was a dolilvrato intention to treat him as a wmmon crim- 
inal, and ho folt how ivmplototy ho was in their power. His groat ivn- 
solatiou was tl\at not tho slightest worvl or writing of a treasonable ohanxctor 
wnld Ihj lironght against him. Tho next day ho was conducted by two 
soldiere with fixed bjiyonets to a court in tho »x>om bolow, comprising four 
military otlicvrs and a clerk, with eight sohliers as a gua>\l. Uo was gweted 
]x>litelv, and a sharp, keen-eyed man "commenced the extunination in the 
bland wav peculiar to Austrian otKoers ; "' and we add, so peculiar to crafty 
men tho world over. Ho was lirst asked his name, that of his father, his 
pivfession, birth-place, etc, Connecticut, tho name of his native state, oc- 
casioned some delay to the clerk in writing. To the inquiry, '• what are your 
objects in Hungtiry ?" he frankly replied, "as a traveler to study tho char- 
acter and manners of tho people, and to investigjito tho old iKilitical institu- 
tions of tho country." But ho found that ho had orred in his candor, that 
he was in the presence of a heartless iuviuisit^n' who wtvs determined to con- 
vict him of crime. " Wo do not boliovo you," said he, " wo know tho sym- 
pathy of tho Americans with the revolutionists here. You are tho tii-st that 
luis ever been in the land. AVo can prove that you are in a wide conspir- 
acy. AVe understand this ivute of travel and theso many acquaintances. 
There is a wide coniplot here. I have been accustomed to trace plots for 
many years, I soe your object. Speak out plainly and avi/(ss ! " Mr. 
Brace wi\s startled at such a perversion ofjustic^i; but, putting on lui indif- 
ferent face, ho replied he did not boliovo he had any such proofs, and that 
he did not recollect a single acquaintance who had a relation in Americsx. 

Questions of tho rai.>st searching kind were put to him as to his acquaint- 
ance with the Huuirarian emigrants. Luckily the name of Gen. Csetx wixs 
the onlv one of importance lie recollected. Ho had met him at Hamburg, 
where ho gave him a note of introduction to a friend in Hungiu-y, a govern- 
ment othcer, which, although it simply said, "tho Herr Von Csctz intro- 
duces Mr. Brace to his friend Mr. S. of Pesth," wsw piiuuced upon by tho ex- 
amining ^tajor or Auditor wiih the greatest avidity, who assorted that somo 
plot W!»s hidden under this introduction, and that his only hope was iu con- 
fession, Mr. Brace smiled at this perversion ; but ho was IW frinn easy. 
He I'elt as if ho wsis getting ont;uigled iu moshes fivm which he could not 
escape, that the auditor might have suKirued witnesses against him, and ho 
reniemlHMvd how utterly helpless he was. The memory of all tho terrible 
stories he had read of Spanish Inquisitions cimie over him, but it was only 
for a moment, and he prepared to moot the examination cjwefuUy and man- 
fully. 

It appeai-ed that ho had seen Ujhazy iu tho streets of Ifow York, and al- 
though ho had never spoken to him, tho axiditor returned to the subject 
again and aitain, urging him to speak out, openly and frankly. " What is 
vour agreement with Ujhaay, suid where are your letters fixuu him ?" 'I'lio 
auditor would tako no denial, until Mr. Brace dosed tho subject by a con- 
tinued reiteration, asked him for his proofs, and ended by declaring, " if ho 
knew him, and every Hnngsu-iau emigrant in America, it w;is no evidence of 



,,. >> 



conspiracy. 

In Mr. Brace's luggage was found a piunphlet printed iu 1S4S, allied 



OK AMKIUCANS. fvl? 

" Hnnftary'H (inod Ui;;lil," ill, tlici (MuI of wliictli wan ii liiiit in I>.'il.iii — " (), yt 
will) Imvt) L(ii) Borcly hiiU'iiriMl, Ooil hIirII ill/ l()n;',l,li lirin;^ iiii iMiil Id llji«, Uio ! i' 

"OviT lliiii l.liu luiililiir lU'cluiiiiuil willi ;;n!iil, vi^Iii.'1ii()ik'i\ 'I'liin |iiiiii|ilil(il. 
aliDWod my cuntccl ruviilutioimry KcitiliiiioiilH. ''I'luiHo uni llio Uiiii;;H wliirli 
you HcaUiir lUiiMii^ llid |iu()|il('. Ijuok ill Lliin linn, nir! (Jud will cml Urn 
milVoriii^H ol' lliu IIiiM;^iiriiiim I Wlial clocB llmt iiiciwi ? (jud will liriii;; iiid 
porlmim from oUum'h ! ' 

1 Hiiiilod III Hiicli II Hlonn ovor ft qiloUI/ioii, luid lold liini I Imd iiover olj- 
Borvod till) liiui helbvo. Ilu would iiolicu il \vun not in my liiiiidwrilin;;. 
Slill I roiild iiul Hco iiiiyLliin;^ very IroiLsiiiiiiliK) in it. 

' It provcii iiolliiii^. 1 lliivc 1)1)1:11 collrctin;; dociinionU rroin nil nidcM, iiiiil 
thin is OIK). [ cmi provo from Vioima, lliat wlieii llicro, I rdiul worliii on tlio 
oLlior Hidii. liuHidiiM, OVUM if it nliowiid my jjoliliciil HoiitinutiitK, it doen iint 
at nil provu 1 am in ii ruvoUilionary oomplol,. And furtliiinnorc, oh! ruvolii- 
lioiniry |)iuii|)1iIcIji, wdiich no onu rcadH now uxcopt tlio liiHtorical iiiv««ti};a- 
tor, uro tlio vory last tliin^H im cMiiaari/ would carry about with iiiin. Jf it 
wiiH a mndurn, o.^ccitiii;^ lirnrhiirf, or a proclamation, it would lio dill'cri.'iil ; 
but tkii! • 

'Tliu roadiii;; works on iIh; oilier nido wiiH only naliiial in lui (Mlucnli'd 
man,' said lio. 

1 tlioii vonturcd to usU, ' VVIiivt wmild iujI be HUHjiicioUH in an American in 
tlio viiiw of tlio AiiHlriaii aiitliorilics ? It wa:i ' snHpicioiin ' to visit inoii of 
tlio Hungarian parly, iind only a 'ulnim' to visit tlioHo of tlio otiicr. It wiih 
'rnvoliitioiiary ' if ono ruad booliH on ono Hido, and proved notliiny good if 
Olio road tliom on tlio utiiur.' 

' I am not licro to ar<;u«,' wiw llio reply." 

Kven till) Hliijlitortt tiling wliicli tlio auditor conid liud to make out a cuko 
against liim was eajjerly ;;riiHped at, and tliu bliuid maiiiier of tlio man 
clian;^ed at tlio Bulf-poHBen.'<ion anil Hpirit inanifeHloil by tlio rcplicH of our 
youii^ eoiintryman. At ono mniin.'nt lie bullied, at another perverted hirf 
lttii^;ini;;o, then drew him out in hopes that ho mi;;ht in Home way fasten a 
coiiHpiniey upon him. 

The oxamiiiiition lasted nix hours, at tlio close of which the ainlilor read 
tho nooiiMalioii a<;nlnHl him, nearly in theso words : 

" You aro a menibur of tho Demoeratio Veroiii (Union), and employed by 
tho Committoo, and an a'^oiit of Ujliazy and C'set/,, hero in Ilunjitary, for 
tho pnrposi) of Bpreadin;^ llevolutionary movements!" 

" Ah il ajipeared later, tho only |ioasiblo ovidonco wliich they had f n- ibis 
clinri^e, besides what is mentioned above, were tho words I had nltcred in 
tho hotel. 'I'lio two moil oiiposito lis iit table were members of tho secret 
police, anil had rejiorled inimediatoly that there was iin American in the 
city who 'spoke as if iieipiaintod witli Ujliazy.' 

After tho oliar;40 was read, I was oonducted back to my iirisoii-ronin, by 
tlio provost iLiid two Kohliers, and as ho passed through tlm lirsl eull I beard 
tho prisoners ask him, ' Will In; he rniiiri'miial ? ' Hlnnz licit imeiU ! ' ('Without 
n doubt') was tho rejdy. Willi this conHnlalion was 1 loeked in lor the 
Bccond nielli.. 

In an Austrian prison — and almost sentenced ! I tir'ew myself on the 
dirty boil, and riniM Hcanely believe il all real. Il half seenii'd as if il 
3.J 



548 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

must be a dream. It all looked hopeless enough. I know they would be 
very glad to sentence an 'American.' And who could ever know or hear 
of my being there ? It came over me as if all I had ever heard or read of 
these Austrian dungeons and secret inquisitions was true — and true for me. 
Perhaps mij Life — all that I had wished and hoped for — all that I had 
been preparing for — was to end here, to close in this mean, miserable way. 
I might die openly without much fear — but to be stifled in a dark hole in 
this manner! I thought, too, of a long imprisonment — that I should bo 
rotting hore the best years of my life. And there came over me a picture 
of myself returning home, rheumatic, broken in health — those I loved, 
dead, and all I knew, forgetting me, and all my plans for life, utterly ruined. 
Then it seemed to me my reason would not bear this, and I remembered 
ihe young Hungarian, who had come out from this very prison after three 
years, a lunatic, and I felt sure one year would do the same for me. 

In the midst of my reflections a voice called me to the key-hule of the 
next room — the same friendly voice which I had heard on my first night. 
' Friend ! Are you gloomy ? ' 
'No,' said I, 'not at all.' 
' How does it stand with your case ? ' 
'Bad — though it is all suspicion — no proofs !' 

'Friend, do you not know the House of Austria needs no proof?' Sus- 
picion is enouf/h ! ' 

After some further t.ilk, I laid myself down again to try to sleep. A 
deep, burning sense of indignation at such injustice settled upon me. The 
noble sympathies of my countrymen were to be revenged so meanly on me ! 
This was Austrian reprisal ! I felt glad within me that, if I must suffer, 
I could suffer for such reasons. And I was strong in the consciousness of 
the sympathy of a great nation if any act of injustice or violence should bo 
performed against me. There arose, too, as is natural under such an unpro- 
voked wrong, a dogged determination to resist — and, whatever came, to fight 
out the mailer step by step. And whj' should I hesitate to say, that the 
trust in One above courts and nations, and above this oppression of men, 
grew that night more calm and strong within me. Though I had not slept 
a moment, the morning's light seemed to bring hope again, and I rose the 
next day quite cheerfully." 

Mr. Brace saw that his only hope for liberation was in sending news of 
his arrest to our Embassy at Vienna, so he managed to bribe a servant to 
bring him paper and ink, and he wrote two letters — one to a friend in Hun- 
gary, under a disguised name, and the other to Mr. Schwarz, our consul in 
Vienna, giving the full particulars, and calling for aid. He did not dare to 
write to Mr. McCurdv', our minister at the Austrian court, fearing that his 
name would attr.ict suspicion. These letters he sent out to be posted by a - 
discharged prisoner who concealed them in the lining of his boots. Not 
thinking this enough, he got another prisoner who was about to be liberated 
interested, who promised to do all ho could for him in Vienna. He was a 
Catholic priest, a whole-souled fellow, who enlivened the whole j)rison by 
his merriment. Says Brace, 

"He was too old 'a bird,' however, to take any papers from me, for, of 
course, as all the others, he believed I was 'deeply in,' some afl'air. Ha 



OF AMERICANS. 549 

said he had been searched twenty-five times for revolutionary papers, and 
he should be cautious how he risked anything again. I gave him McCur- 
dy's name and address, and he wrote them backward, and in cypher, in his 
note-hook. The way in which he kept up the conversation with me w;is 
characteristic. As we stood in the hall, in the morning, he would walk 
about piously reading from his prayer-book, and every time he passed me : 
'What did you say is his name ? — (in louder tones from the book), Oh, 
Maria heatissime ! ^ 

Then again, as lie came back, 'Ora pro nobis ! Mac Curdij, did j'ou say ? 
Oh hildseligste! segn et uns ! Oh sanctissime,' " ect. 

^n a few days Brace was allowed to walk out for an hour in the day with 
other prisoners. Many a curious look was fixed upon him from every part 
of the barracks as the American shut up there in that distant prison. 

" I often," said he, " used to slip by the sentinel, and go to one window 
which but few knew of. It commanded a view of the windows of a fellow- 
prisoner whose fate deeply interested me. The unfortunate was a young 
lady — a countess — from one of the first families in Hungarj', a family long 
distinguished in its history, the Teleki. She had been arrested a short 
time before I was, on a similar charge, of being in correspondence with the 
Hungarian Emigration, and beside with Mazzini. The arrest had made 
great noise in Hungary, and I had often heard of it. How little I had ever 
thought of sharing the same prison with her! One of her friends supposed 
we were in the same conspiracy, and had told me of this window. I made 
many attempts to communicate with her, hoping to bo able to assist her 
when without ; but, somehow, I could never catch her eye. She used often 
to come to the window, to tend the few plants she had there, or to gazo 
longingly out on the distant landscapes. Poor lady ! It seemed to mo 
she grew paler every day. It was very sad ; so young and beautiful — with 
wonderful accomplishments, and a noble heart — to spend her fresh, young 
years in that heart-crushing place ! At first, she used to have a lively, 
young girl running by her side — a maid-servant of extraordinary genius, 
and accused of being engaged in the same plot with herself, though only 
(icelce I/cars oU! But afterward, w-ith a truly Austrian refinement of cru- 
elty, they were separated, and the child was confined by herself in the city. 
The auditor said of the little girl, after the trial, 'It is horrible! Sie est 
verdnrhen vom grurul und hoditi ! She is contaminated from the very root and 
core ." Or, in other words, young as she was, she was a thorough republican 
and a downright hater of tyranny. I had good information of what was 
going on, and I learned that the defense of the countess 'on her trial was 
most heroic and patriotic. She met the abuse and cunning of the auditor, 
with a spirit and dignity which even abashed him. And I know that in 
private she expressed herself ready to go through with any length of im- 
prisonment if she could only help her unhappy country. Whether she 
wa-s guilty or not, I do not know ; but from my own experience of Austrian 
courts, I should think it not in the least improbable she was another victim 
to their infernal system. She often inquired after the fate of the American 
so strangely arrested in the midst of Hungary ; but we never succeeded in 
changing a word." She was afterward sentenced by court-martial to 
twenty j'ears imprisonment. 



550 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

The Gxamination of Mr. Brace was continued at intervals. "It is dilTi- 
cult," says he, "to convey the Inquisition-VL]ie tone of them all — the petty 
triclts, the attempts to entangle, the means used to force a confession. For 
instance, one morning as I entered the court-room, the auditor turned over 
my papers in a careless way, and asked, half unconsciousl}', "Where is that 
letter from Ujhany ?" I rose up in indignation at such a moan device : 
' Sir, you know that I have told you again and again, I have no acquaintance 
with Ujhazy !' 'Oh, I beg your pardon, I mean that letter from Czetz.'" 

When his last trial came on, they asked him if he had anything to urge. 
The remarks which he tlien made, he thought undoubtedly injured him 
more than anything else in the trial. Still tliey were not uttered without 
consideration. In his narrative, he says, " Tlius far, I had answered their 
accusations point by point, not going into anything irrelevant, and avoiding 
carefully all pereonalities, so that their case might stand as bad as pcssible 
before the world. But through it all, without our directly saying anything 
about it, there was underlying always a reference to the two difEerent prin- 
ciples of government. They had caught a republican in the midst of 
Hungary. They suspect him of trying to diffuse republican sentiments — 
though they accuse him ofoffenses a*unst their laws. He defends himself 
on their own grounds, and shows his innocence. This, legally, was enough. 
But I could not think it worthy of a man, or of the great principles which 
I, as one individual of our nation, might represent to leave the case so. I 
was here, indeed, alone, and in their power, but I could not slip out, with- 
out one word before this dark and secret tribunal, for that cause which they 
had so constantly sneered at iu this trial, and which is to me, if I know 
myself, more than life. 

'Sir,' said I, 'the question thus far, in this trial, has not been what my 
personal political feelings are, but what the§e writings, found upon me 
prove. On this ground I have answered and defended myself But I cannot 
let this trial be terminated without declaring before this court, what my 
political sentiments are. I am from heart and soul a republican — an 
American — and I have been in no land in which I have not been proud of 
those names! We have seen in our country the wonderful results of self- 
government, and I would here, as everywhere, confess myself most heartily 
and fully to that principle. At the same time, I wish you to remember our 
countrymen never feel themselves compelled to swear to a revolution 
because it is a revolution. They must know first that it seeks for right, and 
justice, and true equality. Although holding these republican views, it is 
due to myself to say that never, since I have been in Austria, have I ex- 
pressed them in public, and not often in private. . . . My actions have 
lieen open and public — never in any degree like those of a conspirator or 
emissary. I have visited many public men of different parties, and have 
been iu public places often. Yet, with all this, while observing every law 
of your country, I have been arrested, and .' 

'Altogether superfluous, sir! Altogether irrelevant!' interrupted the 
auditor, with a disturbed shrug of his shoulders — and rising indignantly — 
'You have said quite enough, sir! We see what you are ! ' looking at the 
president. 'Strange that he should have been admitted into the country !.' 

'Very strange !' said the president, frowning angrily. 



OF AMERICANS. "551 

At lenglh, after some lliree weeks of this, I was summoned one day 
before the court, and the auditor met me, with his most conciliating manner, 
and said, ' I lias-e good news for you ! ' handing me a letter from Mr. 
Sl'Curdy. I wivs obliged to break the seal before the court, and allow them 
to read it first. But as it was English, and the president only knew a few 
words, they at length permitted me to read it aloud in German, before the 
court, which I did with great gu^io ! 

If any one of my readers will imagine himself shut up for weeks in a 
remote, foreign prison, not knowing, all the while, whether ho was to be 
imprisoned for life, or to be summarily shot by a ' drnmliead court-martial ' — 
treated throughout like a worthless criminal, then if ho will suppose himself 
suddenly receiving a letter from the representative of a mighty nation, the 
only man who jiossibly could help him — a letter at once friendly, and bold, 
and manly — be will get some faint idea of my feelings, as I read Mr. 
M'Curdy's letter to the court on this occasion. I felt safe again. I felt 
that the representative of twenty-five millions of men was speaking for me, 
and in a way wliich must be heard. 

The letter had been detained some ten days after the time in which it 
ought to have reached me. It begarf*with an account of his proceedings iu 
my belialf. As soon as he had heard of the event, he applied directly, by 
letter, to Prince Schwarzeuberg, and then personally enforced his demand for 
my immediate release. He had received favorable assurances, and should not 
intermit a moment his efl'orts, etc. Then followed this passage, which it was a 
great .satisfaction to read to the man who had treated me as an impostor, and 
bullied me so long; 'As I am perfectly convinced you can have been guilty 
of no offense, and as the Austrian government can have no motive or incli- 
nation to create a hostile feeling on the part of ours, I expect your imme- 
diate release.' And then, after some further friendly words, the closing 
passage : ' Every motive — friendship for you, respect for your family, a 
reyard for the ritjhts and honors of nur country, impel me to spare no efforts in 
your behalf.' 

The auditor looked positively uncomfortable as I read out tliat last, with 
all proper emphasis. It had begun to enter his head that shutting up an 
American citizen for a month in an Austrian dungeon, on suspicion, might 
not be considered at all as a trifling matter by the American people. 

When I came up-stairs again, a crowd tif the jjrisoners gathered eagerly 
around me^ and I read the letter in full to them. They could not restrain 
their delight, and at the close there was an enthusiastic Eljen M'Curdy ! 
which made the old walls ring again." 

"From the extraordinary sympathy," continues Mr. Brace, "in the town, 
and among all the Hungarians for my case, I obtained very good information 
of all their measures. I knew that they were alsirmed at certain proceedings 
(I supposed, of Mr. M'Curdy), in Vienna, and that their great object was to 
fix something upon me, so th.at they could still hold me. There was a 
report for a time among the prisoners that they would use violence, in order 
to get rid of my troublesome testimony afterward. 1 never credited it, 
however. I knew thtit the murder of an American citizen, muler such cir- 
cumstances, would be the signal of a storm, which would scatter this hoary 



552 ADVENTURES A^sD ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

old monarchy of oppression to the winds. And thoy must be clear-sifhted 
enough to see it." 

After this he found himself better treated. Thirty days had passed in 
prison, when one afternoon he was summoned before the court, but this 
time without a soldier. This he i\nderstood at once, and as he entered thu 
ofiScers rose, bowed, and then announced that he was free. He went back 
to the prison to bid farewell to his fellow prisoners, most of whom were 
confined for rebellious acts against Austria. "Tell our conntrymen," said 
one, " wherever you meet them, in your fatherland or in Europe, that we 
are waiting for them ! They are the happy ones ! They are free ! We, 
in the prisons, or anywhere in this land, are the slaves! But tell them 
never to forget their country ! " Then with a regret which lie had never 
expected to feel at leaving a Hungarian prison, they embraced each other. 

Among these was a Protestant clergyman from the neighborhood, an 
eloquent preacher — a "senior" who had presided over some twenty 
churches. He was a man of remarkable natural dignity. Like the clergy- 
man in our revolution, he had preached against the tyranny of the Austrian 
government, and when words were of no more avail, he had joined the 
ranks as a common soldier. The Austrians had sentenced him to the 
gallows, but the sentence was not, for some unknown reason, executed. Ho 
had talked much with Mr. Brace about America, and had declared that if 
he should be freed he never would remain in Hungary. He never could 
live in a land where he would be a slave; but he would go to America, 
where he should be happy, and healthy, and could work in the ground 
again. "Though a man unaccustomed," says Mr. Brace, " to express his feel- 
ings, he threw his arms around my neck, and kissed me repeatedly ; his firm 
face working in uncontrollable emotion. Poor man ! I know how ho felt. 
It was like a glimpse for a moment of the free land, which he had dreamed 
of, for Hungary and himself,. and then all to be darkness again." 

Mr. Brace subsequently ascertained that the orders for his arrest had come 
from Vienna, and it could only be explained as a reprisal for American 
sympathy for Hungary, or as the usual Austrian suspicion of an American. 
The testimony showed that it did not arise from any proceedings of his 
within Hungary, for his most suspicious acts in the country, his visits to 
certain disaffected villages were unknown to the Austrian Court. 

Mr. Brace was placed in charge of a military officer and conducted to 
Pesth, the capital of the country, a few hours travel from Vienna, whither 
he started with his own passport. He called on Mr. M'Curdy as soon as 
possible, for fear he might fall into the hands of another of their courts, and 
nobody be the wiser for it. 

"I need not say," says he, "that my meeting with Mr. M'Curdy was 
most joyful. We had of course much to review and examine in the case. 
When this correspondence is finally published, I am very much mistaken if 
Mr. M'Curdy's notes, so spirited and vigorous, do not contrast very favor- 
ably with the long-winded, indefinite epistles of the Austrians. They are 
words strong and direct, and are worthy of a representative of America. 
That I owe everything to him, in this affair, I need not say. If he had not 
been a genuine man, and had not dared to address the Austrian Cabinet as 



OF AMEIUCAXS. 553 

the representative of the United States shoulil address it, I should have 
been still in Austrian dungeons, or have been shot before ukjW as a spy. 
However, it is [irnbable, all demands for my release mia;ht have been ii!- 
cffestual, if it had not been for the accidental presence of two American 
ships of war in Trieste, just at the time of this correspondence — an entirely 
chance-event, but which gave a peculiar edge to Mr. M'Curdy's words." 

He had scarce returned from his visit, when he was summoned before the 
police, and, in a half-sneaking manner, told that he "must leave tlie 
Austrian territory within three day.s." In this difficulty he called upon 
Mr. M'Curdy, who wrote one of his brief, pointed notes to the ministry, 
stating that Mr. Brace had returned here acquitted of the charges, and ex- 
pected at least courtesy after such treatment, and inquiring "if anything 
new had occurred to cause this order, or whether it was a part of the previous 
proceedings." " This was," says Mr. Brace, "somewhat of a dilemma for 
them, and they dropped the matter, and I remained in Vienna. I had no 
permission to remain, and I knew I was everywhere a suspected man — the 
more dangerous, because I had been unjustly treated by their courts. Yet 
I walked around, feeling that the strong arm of the United States was 
around me. Still, very grand and consoling as the feeling is, it becomes 
rather uncomfortable when it is continued too long. One has a sensation as 
of walking around in a highly gallant manner among pit-falls. It seemed 
to me every man I met knew I had been a convict ; and that every gendarme 
eyed me longingly, as if he should soon have his warrant for me. Besides 
1 could see in reality that each step of mine was watched, and I began to 
grow tired of such unceasing paternal attention from the Viennese authorities. 
A vague fear, too, never left me that I had not seen the end of this — that I 
should never entirely escape ! Mr. M'Curdy used to congratulate me 
every morning when he met me, that "my head was still safe where it 
should be ! " 

I found that all my acquaintances in Vienna had been examined before 
the Police Courts, as to my objects and character. My few liberal acquaint- 
ances I feared to compromise, by visiting, and only allowed myself to call 
upon one gentleman in the late evening. He received me, as if from tha 
dead — turned pale, led me hurriedly through half a dozen rooms, into a 
boudoir, double-locked the door, listened at the key-hole, embraced me, 
and then demanded an account of my affair. I gave it in full, he interlard- 
ing it every now and then with " Ach Qott ! SchrecMich ! (Horrible)," and 
"SchandlicJi! (shameful!)" etc. Occasionallj', too, shaking ray hand, to 
assure himself of my identity. 

After holding this out eight days, I concluded to bid "good-bye," for aye 
to Austria, provided the police would let mo go. I made my parting visits, 
arranging everything with Mr. M'Curdy, so that he would know, at once, if 
anything of a serious nature happene<l to me on the Danube, and started off 
the next morning in the steamboat with a fear of secret, sud.len violence, 
■which never left me while under the power of the Anstrian police. At 
Linz, I was obliged to wait a day for my passport, and there, of course, was 
brought under the annoying police inspection again. I then went on broad 
the boat, received my pas.*!, and began to hope I was escaping all fartlier 
difBculties. I took my seat in the cabin, as it was raining hard, and was 



554 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS. 

nmusiiig myself with oliscrvhig tlic various passengers who collect on a 
BiUiube boat, when I became gradually conscious that a man on the opposite 
side was watching me closely. He sat somewhat retired in a corner, but 
yet his eyes would -find their way, all the while, toward me, though when 
I looked at him, he appeared occupied in something else. He was dressed 
in a half-military green suit, and I concluded, was very probably some agent 
of the police. I resolved to bo on my guard toward him. 

When we reached the station, on the Austrian frontier, I jumped ashore 
to get something to eat, and had not made a dozen steps when I felt somo 
one touch me on the shoulder. I turned and saw what I had fully cx- 
]iected — my man in the green suit. I had become, by this time, quite 
used to these gentry, and demanded, abruptly, " WJuit he wanted ?" " You 
will come with me to the police ofiice." 

" Why .'—Who are you ? " 

The captain of the boat came np at this moment, and explained that the 
gentleman was an " agent" from Vienna, and we all went together to the oftico. 

The commissar}' asked me why I was there. "I am an American, and a 
Republican !" said I. "That is reason enough. Suspicion! suspicion is 
the rule in Austria!" He shrugged his shoulders, took down a minute 
description of me, vised the passport, wished us "good-morning," and I was 
handed over into Bavaria ! 

I returned to the boat, and, in a few minutes, with a feeling of relief and 
security, which I had not had for months before, saw the well-known 
monument which marks the Austrian borders grow dim in the distance." 
The reader will find Mr. Brace again referred to on page 572 of this 
work. 

COI'.RESPONDESCE BETWEEN CHEVALIER HULSEMANN', TUE AUSTRIAN MINISTER, 
AND DANIEL WEBST ER, SECRETARY OF STATE, UrON AMERICAN INTERFERENCE 
IN THE AFFAIRS OF HUNGARY. 

The Hungarian War for Independence commenced in September, 1848, 
by the invasion of Hungary by Jellachich. He was summarily driven out 
by the peoplo. A month later, a second Austrian army entered the country, 
under Windischgratz. On the 14th of the succeeding April (1849), the 
Declaration of Hungai'ian Independence was promulgated, and at the close 
of that mouth, the Austrians were the second time expelled from Hungary, 
so that the contest between Hungary and Austria, by itself, was settled. Of 
the one hundred and twenty thousand troops that had invaded the country, 
one half had been killed, disabled, or taken prisoners. At this juncture the 
Imperial Government called in the aid of Russia, and with this immense 
weight thrown into the scale, the eventual issue could not be longer doubt- 
ful. It was hastened by the treachery of Gorgey, who surrendered to the 
Russians, on the 13lh of August, 1849. 

While the contest was progressing. President Taylor dispatched A. Dud- 
ley Mann to Vienna, as special agent, with instructions to watch the pro- 
gress of the movement, and in case of its success, to recognize, on the part 
of our government, the Republic of Hungary. Any such action was preven- 
ted by the overthrow of the Hungarian cause; but the Austrian charge at 
Washington, the Chevalier .J. G. Hulsemann took occasion of the commu- 



OP AMEraCAXS. 5.j5 

iiication to the senate of the inslriictions given to Mr. Mjuhi, to enter in the 
name of his government a formal jirotcat against tlie proccduro of the 
United States, as an unwarrantable interference in the affairs of a friendly 
power; and as a breach of propriety in national interconrse, jeopardizing the 
amity between the two countries. He took especial cxc<'])tion to the 
expression " iron rule," said to be applied to the government of Anstria, — 
to the designation of " Kossnth, as an 'iUustrious man," and to "im- 
proper expressions'" in regard to Russia, "tho intimate Lind failliful ally 
of Austria." He said that Mr. Mann had been placed in a position which 
rendered him liable to the treatment of a sp>J ; anil conclnded liy liinting 
that the United States were not free from the danger of civil war, and were 
liable to acts of retaliation. 

The reply of Mr. Webster produced the most lively sensation of delight 
througliout tlie whole country, as a masterly answer to tho allegations of this 
agent of Austrian despotism, and as an exposition of American .sympathy 
in beh.alf of a gallant people in their struggle for liberty. The comparison 
of Austria with America — in which the possessions of the house of Hapsburg 
are likened to a mere "patch on the earth's surface" beside those of the 
United States, touched a chord in our national pride that vibrates in the 
memory to this day. The keen irony with which Mr. Webster congratulates 
the chevalier upon the liberal jirinciples "recently introduced into the con- 
stitution of the Atistrian Empire," forms an interesting point in this cele- 
brated epistle. Tho letter wo give entire. 

The Secretary of State to Mr. JItdsemann. 

l)epartment of Slato, Wiisliingtun, December 21, ISiO. 

The undersigned. Secretary of State of the United States, had the honor 
to receive, some time ago, the note of Mr. lliilsemaun, Charge d' Affaires of 
his Majesty, the Emperor of Austria, of the 30th of September. Causes, 
not arising from any want of personal regard for Mr. Hiilsemann, or of pro- 
jier respect for his government, having dela3-ed an answer until the present 
moment. Having submitted Mr. Uiilsemann's letter to the President, the 
undei-signed is now directed by him to return the foUov.ing reply. 

The objects of Mr. Hiilsemann's note are first, to protest, by order of his 
government, against the steijs taken by the late President of the United 
States to ascertain the progress ami probable result of tho revolutionary 
movements in Hungary; and, secondly, to complain of some expressions in 
the instructions of the late Secretary of State to Mr. A. Dudley Mann, a 
confidential agent of the United States, as communicated by President 
Taylor to the Senate on the 28th of March last. 

The {)rinci[)al ground of protest is founded on the idea, or in the alleo-a- 
tion, that the governient of the United States, by the mission of Mr. Maiin 
and his instructions, has interfered in the domestic affairs of Austria in a 
manner unjust or disrespectful toward that power. The President's message 
was a communication made by him to the Senate, transmitting a correspon- 
dence between the executive government and a confidential ageiit of its 
own. This would seem to be itself a domestic transaction, a mere instance 
of intercourse between the President and the Senate, in a manner wliich is 
usual and indispensable in communications between the difTerent branches 



556 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

of the government. It was not aiMresseil either to Austria or Hungary ; 
nor was it a public manifesto, to which anj' foreign state was called on to 
reply. It was an account of its transactions communicated by the e.Keou- 
tive government to the Senate, at the request of that body ; made public, 
indeed, but made public only because such is the common and usual course 
of proceeding. It may be regarded as somewhat strange, therefore, that 
the Austrian Cabinet did not perceive that, by the instructions given to Mr. 
ifiilsemann, it was itself interfering with the domestic concerns of a foreign 
state, the very thing which is the ground of its complaint against the 
United States. 

This department has, on former occasions, informed the ministers of for- 
eign powers, that a communication from the President to either house of con- 
gress is regarded as a domestic communication, of which, ordinaril)-, no 
foreign state has cognizance ; and in more recent instances, the great incon- 
venience of making such communications the subject of diplomatic corres- 
pondence and discussion has been fully shown. If it had been the pleasure 
of his majesty, the Emperor of Austria, during the struggles in Hungary, to 
have admonished the provisional government, or the people of that country, 
against involving themselves in disaster, by following the evil and dangerous 
example of the United States of America, in making efforts for the establish- 
ment of independent governments, such an admonition from that sovereign 
to his Hungarian subjects would not have originated here a diplomatic cor- 
respondence. The President might, perhaps, on this ground, have declined 
to direct any particular reply to Mr. Hiilsemann's note ; but, out of proper 
respect for the Austrian government, it has been thought better to answer 
that note at length ; and the more especially, as the occasion is not unfavor- 
able for the expression of the general sentiments of the government of tiie 
United States upon the topics which that note discusses. 

A leading subject in Mr. Hiilsemann's note is that of the correspondence 
between Mr. lliilsemann and the predecessor of the undersigned, in which 
Mr. Clayton, by direction of the President, informed Mr. Hiilsemann "that 
Mr. Mann's mission had no other object in view than to obtain reliable in- 
formation as to the true state of affairs in Hungary, by personal observation." 
Mr. Hiilsemann remarks, that " this explanation can hardly be admitted, 
for it says very little as to the cause of the anxiety which was felt to 
ascertain the chances of the revolutionists." As this, however, is the only 
purpose which can, with any appearance of truth, be attributed to the 
agency ; as nothing whatever is alleged by Mr. Hiilsemann to have been 
either done or said by the agent inconsistent with such an object, the un- 
dersigned conceives that Mr. Clayton's explanation ought to be deemed, not 
only admissible, but quite satisfactory. 

Mr. Hiilsemann states, in the course of his note, that his instructions to 
address his present communication to Mr. Clayton reached Washington 
about the time of the lamented death of the late President, and that he 
delayed, from a sense of propriety, the execution of his task until the new 
administration should be fully organized ; "a delay which he now rejoices 
at, as it has given him the opportunity of ascertaining from the new Presi- 
dent himself, on the occasion of the reception of the diplomatic corps, that 
the fundamental policy of the United States, so frequently proclaimed, 



OF AMEIUUAXS. 557 

would guide the relations of the American government with other powers." 
Mr. Hiilsemann al.so observes, that it is in his power to assure the under- 
signed "that the imperial government is disposed to cultivate relations of 
friendship and good understanding with the United States." 

The President receives this assurance of the disposition of the imperial 
government with great satisfaction ; and, iu consideration of the friendly 
relations of the two governments thus mutually recoguized, and of the 
peculiar nature of the incidents by which their good understanding is sup- 
posed by Mr. Hiilsemann to have been for a moment disturbed or en- 
dangered, the President regrets that Mr. Hiilsemann did not feel himself at 
liberty wholly to forbear from the execution of instructions, which were of 
course transmitted from Vienna without any foresight of the state of things 
under which they would reach Washington. If Mr. lliilsemann saw, in the 
address of the President to the diplomatic corps, satisfactory pledges of the 
sentiments and the policy of this government in regard to neutral rights and 
neutral duties, it might, perhaps, have been better not to bring on a dis- 
cussion of past transactions. But the undersigned readily admits that this 
was a question fit only for the consideration and decision of Mr. Hiilsemann 
himself; and although the President does not see that any good purpose can 
be answered by reopening the inquiry into the propriety of the steps taken 
by President Taylor to ascertain the probable issue of the late civil war in 
Hungary, justice to his memory requires the undersigned briefly to restate 
the history of those steps, and to show their consistency with the neutral 
policy which has invariably guided the government of the United States in 
its foreign relations, as well as with the established and well-settled prin- 
ciples of national intercourse, and the doctrines of public law. 

The undersigned will first observe, that the President is persuaded his 
majesty, the Emperor of Austria, does not think that the government of the 
United States ought to view with unconcern the extraordinary events which 
have occurred, not only in his dominions, but in many other parts of Europe, 
since February, 1848. The government and people of the United States, 
like other intelligent governments and communities, take a lively interest 
in the movements and the events of this remarkable age, in whatever part 
of the world they may be exhibited. But the interest taken by the United 
States in those events has not proceeded from any disposition to depart 
from that neutrality toward foreign powers, which is among the deepest 
principles and the most cherished traditions of the political history of the 
■ Union. It has been the necessary effect of the unexampled ch.aracter of the 
events themselves, which could not fail to arrest the attention of the contem- 
porary world as they will doubtless fill a memorable page in history. 

But the undersigned goes further, and freely admits that, in proportion 
as these extraordinary events appear to have their origin in those great 
ideas of responsible and popular government, on which the American con- 
stitutions themselves are wholly founded, they could not but command the 
warm sympathy of the people of this country. Well-known circumstances 
in tlieir history, indeed their whole history, have made them the represen- 
tatives of purely popular principles of government. In this light they now 
stand before the world. They could not, if they would, conceal their 
character, their condition, or their destiny. They could not, if they so 



55S ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

desired, shut out from the view of mankind tlie causes which have placed 
them, in so short a national career, in the station which they now hohl 
among the civilized states of the world. They could not, if tliey desired 
it, suppress either the thoughts or the hopes which arise in men's minds, in 
other countries, from contemplating their successful example of free govern- 
ment. That very intelligent and distinguished personage, the Emperor 
Joseph the Second, was among the first to discern this necessary conse- 
quence of the American Revolution on the sentiments and opinions of the 
people of Europe. In a letter to his minister in the Netherlands in 1787, 
he observes, that " it is remarkable that France, by the assistance which she 
afforded to the Americans, gave birth to reflections on freedom." This 
fact, which the sagacity of that monarch perceived at so earl_v a day, is 
now known and admitted by inteUigent powers all over the world. True, 
indeed, it is, that the prevalence on the other continent of sentiments favor- 
able to republican liberty is the result of the reaction of America upon 
Europe ; and the source and center of this reaction has doubtless been, and 
now is, in those United States. 

The position thus belonging to the United States is a fact as inseparable 
froai their history, their constitutional organization, and tlieir character, as 
the opposite position of the powers composing the European alliance is 
from the history and constitutional organization of the government of those 
powers. The sovereigns who form that alliance have not uufrequently felt 
it their right to interfere with the political movements of foreign states ; 
and have, in their manifestoes and declarations, denounced the popular ideas 
of the age in terms" so comprehensive as of necessity to include the United 
States, and their forms of government. It is well known that one of the 
leading principles announced by the allied sovereigns, after the restoration 
of the Bourbons, is, that all popular or constitutional rights are holden no 
otherwise than as grants and indulgencies from crowned heads. " Useful 
and necessary changes in legislation and administration," says the Laybach 
Circular of May, 1821, " ought only to emanate from the free will and in- 
telligent conviction of those whom God has rendered responsible for power; 
all that deviates from this lino necessarily leads to disorder, commotions, 
and evils far more insufferable than those which they jiretend to remedy.'-' 
And his late Austrian majesty, Francis the First, is reported to have declared, 
in an address to the Hungarian Diet, in 1820, that "the whole world had 
become foolish, and, leaving their ancient laws, were in search of imaginary 
constitutions." These declarations amount to nothing less than a denial of 
the lawfulness of the origin of the government of the United States, since 
it is certain that that government was established in consequence of a change 
which did not proceed from thrones, or the permission of crowned heads. 
But the government of the United States heard these denunciations of its 
fundamental principles without remonstrance, or the disturbance of its 
equanimity. This was thirty years ago. 

The power of this republic, at the present moment, is spread over a 
region one of the richest and most fertile on the globe, and of an extent in 
comparison with w^hich the possessions of the house of Hapsburg are but as 
a patch on the earth's surface. Its population, alread}' tw-enty-five millions, 
will exceed that of the Austrian empire within the period during which it 



OF AMERICAXS. 550 

may be hoped tliat Mr. Iliilsemaiiii maj' yet remain in the honorable dis- 
charge of his dutiets to his government. Its navigation and commerce are 
hardly exceeded by the oldest and most commercial nations; its maritime 
means and its maritime power may be seen by Austria herself, in all seas 
where she has ports, as well as they may be seen, also, in all other quarters 
of the globe. Life, liberty, property, and all personal rights, are amply 
secured to all citizens, and protected by just and stable laws; and credit, 
public and private, is as well established as in any government of Conti- 
nental Europe; and the country, in all its interests and concerns, partakes 
most largely in all the irajirovements and progress which distinguish the 
ago. Certainly, the United States may be pardoned, oven by those who 
profess adherence to the principles of absolute government, if they enter- 
tain an ardent affection for those popular forms of political organization, 
which have .so rapidly advanced their own prosperity and happiness, and 
enabled them, in so short a period, to bring their country, and the hemi- 
sjihere to which it belongs, to the notice and respectful regard, not to say 
the admiration, of the civilized -world. Nevertheless, the United States 
have abstained, at all times, from acts of interference with the political 
changes of Europe. They cannot, however, fail to cherish always a lively 
interest in the fortunes of nations struggling for institutions like their own. 
But this sympathy, so far from being necessarily a hostile feeling toward any 
of the parlies to these great national struggles, is quite consistent with 
amicable relations with them all. The Hungarian people are three or four 
times as numerous as the inhabitants of these United States were when the 
American Revolution broke out. They possess, in a distinct language, and 
in other respects, important elements of a separate nationality, which the 
Anglo-Saxon race in this country did not possess ; and if the United States 
wish success to countries contending for popular constitutions and national 
indopendence, it is only because they regard such constitutions, and such 
national independence, not as imaginary, but as real blessings. They 
claim no right, however, to take part in the struggles of foreign 250wers in 
order to promote these ends. It is only in defense of his own government, 
and its principles and character, that the undersigned has now expressed 
himself on this subject. But when the people of the United States be- 
hold the people of foreign countries, without any such interference, spon- 
taneously moving toward the adoption of institutions like their own, 
it surely cannot be expected of Ihcm to remain wholly indifferent 
spectators. 

In regard to the recent very important occurrences in the Austrian em- 
pire, the undersigned freely admits the difficulty which exists in this 
country, and is alluded to by Mr. Iliilscmann, of obtaining accurate infor- 
mation. But this difficulty is by no means to bo ascribed to what Mr. 
lliilsemann calls, with little justice, as it seems to the undersigned, "the 
mendacious rumors propagated by the American jire.ss." For information 
oji this subject, and others of the same kind, the American press is, of 
necessity, almost wholly dependent upon that of Europe; and if "men- 
dacious rumors" respecting Austrian and Hungarian affairs have been any- 
where propagated, that prop.igation of falsehoods has been most prolific on 
the European continent, a]id in countries immediately bordering on the 



560 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

Austrian empire. But, wherever these errors may have originated, they 
certainly justified the late President in seeking true information through 
authentic channels. 

His attention was first particularly drawn to the state of things in Hun- 
gary by the correspondence of Mr. Stiles, Charge d' Affaires of the United 
States at Vienna. In the autumn of 1848, an application was made to this 
gentleman, on behalf of Mr. Kossuth, formerly Minister of Finance for the 
Kingdom of Hungary, by Imperial appointment, but, at the time the 
application was made, chief of the revolutionary government. The object 
of this application was to obtain the good offices of Mr. Stiles with the Im- 
perial government, with a view to the suspension of hostilities. This 
appilication became the subject of a conference between Prince Schwarzen- 
berg, the Imperial Minister for Foreign Affairs, and Mr. Stiles. The 
Prince commended the considerateness and propriety with which Mr, 
Stiles had acted ; and, so far from disapproving his interference, advised 
him, in case he received a further communication from the revolutionary 
government in Hungary', to have an interview with Prince Windischgriitz, 
who was charged by the Emperor witli the proceedings determined on in 
relation to that kingdom. A week after these occurrences, Mr. Stiles re- 
ceived, through a secret channel, a communicatio]i signed by L. Kossuth, 
President of the Committee of Defense, and countersigned by Francis 
Pulszky, Secretary of State. On the receipt of this commtinication, Mr. 
Stiles had an interview with Prince Windischgriitz, "who received him 
with the utmost kindness, and thanked him for his efforts toward reconcil- 
ing the existing difficulties." Such were the incidents whicli first drew the 
attention of the government of the United States particularly to the affairs 
of Hungary, and the conduct of Mr. Stiles, though acting without instruc- 
tions in a matter of much delicacy, having been viewed with satisfaction 
by the Imperial government, was approved by that of the United 
States. 

In the course of the year 1848, and in the early part of 1849, a con- 
siderable number of Hungarians came to the United States. Among them 
were individuals representing themselves to be in the confidence of tho 
revolutionary government, and by these persons the President was strongly 
urged to recognize the existence of that government. In these applica- 
tions, and in the manner in which they were viewed by the President, 
there was nothing unusual : still less was there anything unauthorized by 
the law of nations. It is the right of every independent state to enter into 
friendly relations with every other independent state. Of course, questions 
of prudence naturally arise in reference to new states, brought by successful 
revolutions into the family of nations ; but it is not to be required of neutral 
powers that they should await the recognition of the new government by 
the parent state. No principle of public law has been more frequently 
acted upon, within the last thirty years, by the great powers of the world, 
than this. Within that period, eight or ten new states have established in- 
dependent governments, within the limits of the colonial dominions of Spain, 
on this continent ; and in Europe the same thing has been done by Belgium 
and Greece. The existence of all these governments was recognized by some 
of the leading powers of Europe, as well as by the United States, before it 



OF AMERICANS. 5G1 

was acknowledged by tlie states from which tliey had separated themselves. 
If, therefore, the' United States had gone so far as formally to acknowledge 
the independence of Hungary, although, as the residt has proved, it would 
have been a precipitate step, and one from which no benefit would have 
resulted to either party ; it would not, nevertheless, have been an act 
against the law of nations, provided they took no part in her contest with 
Austria. But the United States did no such thing. Not only did they 
not yield to Hungary any actual countenance or succor, not only did they 
not show their ships of war in the Adriatic with any menacing or hostile 
aspect, but they studiously abstained from everything which had not been 
done in other cases in times past, and contented themselves with instituting 
an inquiry into the truth and reality of alleged political occurrenfes. Mr. 
Hiilsemaun incorrectly states, unintentionally certainly, the nature of the 
mission of this agent, when he says, that "a United States agent had been 
dispatched to Vienna, with orders to watch for a favorable moment to 
recognize the Hungarian republic, and to conclude a treaty of commerce 
with the same." This, indeed, would have been a lawful object, but Mr. 
Mann's errand was, in the first instance, purely one of inquiry. He had no 
power to act, unless he had first come to the conviction that a firm and 
stable Hungarian government existed. " The principal object the Presi- 
dent has in view," according to his instructions, " is to obtain minute and 
reliable information in regard to Hungary, in connection with the affairs of 
adjoining countries, the probable issue of the present revolutionary move- 
ments, and the chances we may have of forming commercial arrangements 
with that power favorable to the United States." Again, in the same paper, 
it is said : " The object of the President is to obtain information in regard 
to Hungary, and her resources and prospects, with a view to an early recog- 
nition of her independence, and the formation of commercial relations with 
her." It was only in the event that the new government should appear, in 
the opinion of the agent, to be firm and stable, that the President proposed 
to recommend its recognition. 

Mr. HUlsemann, in qualifying these steps of President Taylor with the 
epithet of "hostile," seems to take for granted that the inquiry- could, iu 
the expectation of the President, have but one result, and that f;ivorable to 
Hungary. If this were so, it would not change the case. But the Ameri- 
can government sought for nothing but truth ; it desired to learn the facts 
through a reliable channel. It so happened, in the chances and vicissitudes 
of human affairs, that the result was adverse to the Hungarian revolution. 
The American agent, as was stated in his instructions to bo not unlikely, 
found the condition of Hungarian affairs less prosperous than it had been, or 
had been believed to be. He did not enter Hungary, nor hold any direct 
communication with her revolutionary leaders. He reported again.st the 
recognition of her independence, because he found she had been unable to 
set up a firm and stable government. Ho carefully forbore, as his instruc- 
tions required, to give publicity to his mission, and the undersigned sup- 
poses that the Austrian government first learned its existence from the com- 
munications of the President to the Senate. 

Mr. Hi'ilsemann will observe from this statement, that Mr. Mann's mission 
was wholly unobjectionable, and strictly within the rule ef the law of 



5G2 ADVEXTUIIES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS. 

nations and Llie duty of the United States as a neutral jiowcr. IIo wiil 
accordingly feel how little foundation there is for his remark, that " those 
who did not hesitate to assume the responsibility of sending Mr. Dndlev 
Mann on such an errand, should, independent of considerations of proprietv, 
have borne in mind that they were exposing their emissary to be treated as 
a sp3'." A spy is a person sent by one belligerent to gain secret informa- 
tion of the forces and defenses of the other, to be used for hostile purposes. 
According to practice, he may use deception, under the penalty of being 
lawfully hanged if detected. To give this odious name and character to a 
confidential agent of a neutral power, bearing the commission of his country, 
and sent for a purpose fully warranted by the law of nations, is not only to 
abuse language, but also to confound all just ideas, and to announce the 
wildest and most extravagant notions, such as certainly were not to have 
been expected in a grave diplomatic paper; and the President directs the 
undersigned to say to Mr. Ilillsemann, that the American government 
would regard such an imputation upion it by the Cabinet of Austria, as that 
it emi)loys spies, and that in a quarrel none of its own, as distinctly offen- 
sive, if it did not presume, as it is willing to presume, that the word used 
in the original German was not of equivalent meaning with "spy" in the 
English language, or that in some other way the employment of such an 
opprobrious term may be explained. Had the Imperial government of 
Austria subjected Mr. Mann to the treatment of a spy, it would have placed 
itself without the pale of civilized nations ; and the Cabinet of Vienna mav 
be assured, that if it had carried, or attempted to carry, anj' such lawless 
purpose into effect, in the case of an authorized agent of this government, 
the spirit of the people of this countr}' would have demanded immediate 
hostilities to be waged by the utmost exertion of the power of the republic, 
military and naval. 

Mr. Ilillsemann proceeds to remark, that "this extremely painful inci- 
dent, therefore, might have been passed over, without any written evidence 
being left on our part in the archives of the United States, had not General 
Taylor tlionght proper to revive the whole subject, by communicating to 
tlie Senate, in his message of the 18th ('28th) of last March, the instructions 
with which Mr. Mann had been furnished on the occasion of his mission to 
Vienna. The publicity which has been given to that document, has placed 
the Imperial government under the necessity of entering a formal protest, 
through its official representative, against the proceedings of the American 
government, lest that government should construe our silence into ajjproba- 
lion, or toleration even, of the pirinciples which appear to have guided its 
action and the means it has adopted." The undersigned reasserts to Mr. 
lliilsomann, and to the Cabinet of Viemia, and in the presence of the world, 
that the steps taken by President Taylor, now protested against by the 
Austrian government, were warranted by the law of nations, and agreeable 
lo the usages of civilized states. With respect to the communication of Mr. 
Mann's instructions to the Senate, and the language in which they are 
couched, it has already been said, and Mr. Hiilsemann must feel the justice 
of the remark, that these are domestic affairs, in reference to which the 
government of the United States cannot admit the slightest responsibility 
to tlie government of his Imperial Majesty. Xo state, deserving the appul- 



OF AMERICANS. 503 

lation of independent, can permit the language in wliich it may instruct its 
own officers, in the discharge of their duties to itself, to be called in ques- 
tion under anj- pretext by a foreign power. 

But even if this were not so, Mr. Hvilsemaun is in an error in stating tliat 
the Austrian government is called an "iron rule," in Mr. Manr.'s instruc- 
tions. That phrase is not found in the paper ; and in respect to the honor- 
ary epithet bestowed in Mr. Mann's instructions on the late chief of the 
revolutionary government of Uungiiry, Mr. lliilsemann will bear in mind 
that the government of the United States cannot justly be expected, in a 
confidential communication to its own agent, to withhold from an indi- 
vidual an epithet of distinction, of which a great part of the world thinks 
him worthy, merely on the ground that his own government regards him 
as a rebeh At an earl}' stage of the American Revolution, while Washing- 
ton was considered by the English government as a rebel chief, he was 
regarded on the Continent of Europe as an illustrious hero. Cut the 
undersigned will take the liberty of bringing the Cabinet of Vienna into the 
presence of its own predecessors, and of citing for its consideration the con- 
duct of the Imperial government itself. In the year 1777, the war of the 
American Revolution was raging all over these United States. England 
was prosecuting that war with a most resolute determination, and by the 
exertion of all her military means to the fullest extent. Germany was ar. 
that time at peace with England ; and yet an agent of that Congress, which 
was looked upon by England in no other light than that of a body in open 
rebellion, was not only received with great respect by the ambassador of the 
Empress Queen, at Paris, and by the minister of the Grand Duke of 
Tuscany (who afterward mounted the Imjierial throne), but resided in 
Vienna for a considerable time ; not, indeed, officially acknowledged, but 
treated with courtesy and respect ; and the Emperor suffered himself to be 
persuaded by that agent to exert himself to prevent the German powers 
from furnishing troops to England to enable her to suppress the rebellion in 
America. Neither Mr. Hiilsemann nor the Cabinet of Vienna, it is pre- 
sumed, will undertake to say that any thing said or done by this govern- 
ment in regard to the recent war between Austria and Hungary is not borne 
out, and much more than borne out, by this example of the Imperial Court. 
It is believed that the Emperor Joseph the Second habitually spoke iu 
terms of respect and admiration of the character of Washington, as ho ia 
known to have done of that of Franklin ; and ho deemed it no infraction o'. 
neutrality to inform himself of the progress of the revolutionary struggle in 
America, or to express his deep sense of the merits and the talents of these 
illustrious men who were then leading their country to independence and 
renown. The undersigned may add, that in 1781 the courts of Russia and 
Austria proposed a diplomatic congress of the belligerent powers, to which 
the commissioners of the United States should be admitted. 

Mr. lliilscmann thinks that in Mr. Mann's in.structions improper expres- 
sions are introduced in regard to Russia ; but the undersigned has no reason 
to suppose that Russia herself is of that opinion. The only observation 
made in ihose instructions about Russia, is, that she " has chosen to a.ssume 
an attitude of interference, and her immense preparations for invading and 
reducing the llungnrians to the rule of Austria, from which thev desire to 
3J 



SGI ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

be released, gave so serious a character to the contest as to awaken tho 
most painful solicitude in the minds of Americans." The undersigned can- 
not hut consider the Austrian Cabinet as unnecessarily susceptible in look- 
ing upon language like this as a "hostile demonstration." If we remember 
that it was addressed by the government to its own agent, and has received 
publicity only through a communication from one department of the 
American government to another, the language quoted must he deemed 
i.ioderate and inoffensive. The comity of nations would hardly forbid its 
being addressed to the two imperial powers themselves. It is scarcely 
necessary for the undersigned to say, that the relations of the United 
States with Russia have always been of the most friendly kind, and have 
never been deemed by either party to require any compromise of their 
peculiar views upon subjects of domestic or foreign polity, or the true origin 
of governments. At any rate, the fact that Austria, in her contest with 
Hungary, had an intimate and faithful ally in Russia, cannot alter the real 
nature of the question between Austria and Hungary, nor in any way affect 
the neutral rights and duties of the government of the United States, or the 
justifiable sympathies of the American people. It is, indeed, easy to con- 
ceive, that favor toward struggling Hungary would be not dimini.shed, but 
increased, when it was seen that the arm of Austria was strengtlicned and 
upheld by a power whose assistance threatened to" be, and which in the end 
proved to be, overwhelmingly destructive of all her hopes. 

Toward the conclusion of his note Mr. Hiilsemann remarks, that " if the 
government of the United States were to think it proper to take an indirect 
part in the political movements of Europe, American policy would be ex- 
posed to acts of retaliation, and to certain inconveniences, which would not 
fail to affect the commerce and industry of the two hemispheres." As to 
this possible fortune, this hypothetical retaliation, the government and peo- 
ple of tho United States are quite willing to take their chances, and abide 
their destiny. Taking neither a direct nor an indirect part in the domestic 
or intestine movements of Europe, they have no fear of events of the nature 
alluded to by Jlr. Hiilsemann. It would be idle now to discuss with Mr. 
Hiilsemann those acts of retaliation, which he imagines may possibly take 
place at some indefinite time hereafter. Those questions will be discussed 
when they arise ; and Mr. Hiilsemann and the Cabinet at Vienna may rest 
as-sured, that, in the mean time, while performing with strict and exact 
fidelity all their neutral duties, nothing will deter either tho government or 
the people of the United States from exercising, at their own discretion, the 
rights belonging to them as an independent nation, and of forming and ex- 
pressing their own opinions, freely, and at all times, upon the great political 
events which may transpire among the civilized nations of the earth. 
Their own institutions stand upon the broadest principles of civil liberty ; 
and believing those principles and the fundamental laws in which they are 
embodied, to be eminently favorable to the prosperity of state.s, to be, in 
fact, the only principles of government which meet the demands of tho 
present enlightened age, the President has perceived, with great satisfaction, 
that, in the constitution recently introduced into the Austrian empii'e, many 
of these great principles are recognized and applied, and he cherishes a 
sincere wish that they ma} produce the same luqipy effects throughout his 



OF AMEUICANS. 5C5 

Austrian Majesty's extensive dominions tliat thoy have Jone in tlie United 
States. 

The undersigned has the lionor to repeat to Mr. Iliilseraann the assurance 
of his high consideration. Daniel Webster. 

TuE Chevalier J. G. HuLSEMiNN, Churi/e d' Affaires nf Austriti, Was'diigton. 

Chevalier Hiilsemann, under date of Marcli lltli, lh'51, briefly replied to 
this "famous dispatch" from Mr. Wekter, and in it stated that the opinions 
of his government remain unaltered in respect to the mission of Mr. Mann ; 
but that it "declines all ulterior discussion of that annoying incident," from 
unwillingness to disturb its friendly relations with the United States. Mr. 
Webster, in his rejoinder to this communication, said that the government 
of the United States was equally disinclined to prolong the discussion, but 
declared that their principles and policy are fixed and fastened upon them by 
their character, their history, and their position among the nations of the 
world ; and it may be regarded as certain, that those principles and this 
policy will not be abandoned or departed from until some extraordinary 
change shall take place in the general current of human afl'airs." 

AMERICA N ISTEnVENTION IS BEHALF OF TUE UUNOARIAN EXILES, WITH A 
SKETCH OF THE VISIT OF KOSSUTH TO TUE UNITED STATES. 

On the termination of the Hungarian War, in August, 1849, Louis 
Kossuth, who had been governor of Hungary, and was the one ruling and 
directing spirit of the Hungarian cause, with a party of officers and others 
fled across the Turkish frontier, and threw himself on tl-e hospitality of the 
Sultan, who promised them a safe asylum. 

Russia and Austria demanded that the fugitives should be given up ; and 
for some months it was uncertain if the Turkish government would dare to 
refuse. At first a decided negative was given ; then the Porte wavered, 
and it was officially announced to Kossuth and his companions that the 
only means for them to avoid a surrender would be to give up the Chris- 
tian religion and become Mohammedans, and thus take advantage of the 
Moslem law, that any fugitive embracing that faith can claim the protec- 
tion of the government. Kossuth refused to purchase his life at such a 
price. Finally Austria and Russia were induced to modify their demand, 
and merely insist upon the detention of the fugitives. 

Early in the year 1851, Daniel Webster, as Secretary of State, directed 
Mr. Marsh, our minister at Constantinople, to urge the Porte to suffer the 
exiles to come to the United States. A similar course was pursued by the 
British government. It was finally promised that these requests should bo 
complied with at the expiration of the period of the detention agreed upon 
by the Sultan, when the exiles would be' free to depart to any part of the 
world. Our government at once jjlaced the United States' steam-frigate 
Mississippi at the disposal of Ko.ssuth, who accepted the offer and embarked 
with his suite on the 12ih of September, 1851. They arrived at Marseilles 
on the 2ulh, when the French government refused permission to Kossuth 
to puss through France to England, where he wished to leave his children 
for their education, prior to visiting the United States. On the 5th of 
October, Kossuth, with his wife, three children, and eleven of his suite, left 



5G6 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

the Mississippi at Gibraltar and embarked on an English passenger-steamer 
for Southampton, while the Mississippi, with the remainder of the exiles, 
forty-two in number, sailed for New York. 

Early in December, Kossuth and his suite arrived at New York in the 
steamer llumbolt, from England. The enthusiasm with which he was 
received was never equided in our country on any occasion within this 
century. It arose from the extraordinary ability of the man, and the 
character of the heroic struggle in which he had been engaged. 

On his entrance into New York, as the guest of the city, he was greeted 
by thousands upon thousands of the people, whose wild excitement was 
such that it seemed as if even the loudest huzzas were insulHcient to give 
vent to their emotions. Ho .veviewed the troops, and there was a large 
civil and military procession in his honor. For the few subsequent days 
he was waited upon at his rooms by numerous deputations from societies, 
and from cities, inviting him to visit them. On the 12th, the corporation 
of New York entertained him at a splendid banquet, in which ho made a 
long and able speech, explanatory of the objects of his visit to the United 
States. The point of his address, and of his speeches generally throughout 
the country, was to urge this government to combine with that of England 
in a protest against the intervention of Russia in the affairs of Hungary. 
He argued that this would be sulEoient to effect the object — that Russia 
would be overawed to continue at peace, and thus his country would be 
enabled to gain her independence of Austria. On the 15th, tlie banquet of 
the press was given him at the Astor House ; and on the succeeding day 
the military of Njw York, about six thousand strong, received him at 
Castle Garden. The bar of the city gave him a banquet on the 19t.h, and 
on the 20th he pronounced a farewell addrets to the ladies, at TriplerHall. 
Passing through Philadelphia and Baltimore to Washington, he was re- 
ceived in those cities with similar honors and enthusiasm. At the Federal 
city, Kossuth called upon President Fillmore, with his suite, and read a 
short address, to which the President replied. Congress, who had passed 
an almost unanimous resolution welcoming him to the capital and the 
country, on the 7th gave him a banquet. His speech on this occasion was 
"a terse and most eloquent sketch of the position of his country." 
Speeches in reply were made by Messrs. Cass, Douglass, and Webster — the 
latter expressing his high admiration for their guest, and declaring his 
opinion that Hungary was admirably fitted for republican institutions, and 
his wish for the speedy establishment of her independence. The others 
affirmed their desire that the United States should ijrotest against Russian 
intervention. 

In the course of the next few weeks, Kossuth visited Annapolis, Harris- 
burg, Pittsburg, Cleveland, and Columbus, and was received by the legisla- 
tures of Maryland, Pennsylvania and Ohio. The same unbounded enthu- 
siasm greeted him. On the 9th of February he reached Cincinnati, where 
he remained several weeks, receiving deputations, making speeches, etc. 
He solicited and received, in the whole course of his tour, large sums of 
money, as contributions to assist in a second proposed attempt to establish 
Hungarian Independence. He declined at this point to receive any more 
public entertainments on the ground that it involved a waste of monev, 



OF AMERICANS. 507 

and to no benefit. At this period some jiublisljcd letters of exiled Ilun- 
garian le:iders, upon tlie merits of Kossuth, reached the country, and much 
cooled the public sentiment in his favor. Besides this. President Fillmore, 
in compliance with a resolution of Congress, transmitted copies of the cor- 
respondence between ofiicersof the Mississippi and some American consuls in 
Europe, and the government concerning Kossuth. They showed distrust 
of his plans, and expressed great dissatisfaction at the marks of respect 
which were paid him at the various ports on the Mediterranean at which 
the Mississippi had touched. His returning thanks to "the people" of 
Mareeilles, who cheered him from boats in the harbor, was especially cen- 
sured : " liberty of speech " having been considered as a liberty too great 
to be taken with the subjects of Louis Napoleon, even from the decks of an 
American national vessel, under the star'd and striped flag, that freemeu 
have, perhaps erroneously, deemed the emblem of Liberty the world over, 
and if so, they should in all humility ask pardon fur so monstrous an 
offense. 

In March, Kossuth reached St. Louis, and from thence he passed down 
thtj Mississippi, and following along the seaboard States of the South he 
ended his tour by a visit to the New England States. Throughout the 
South he was generally received with coldness and distrust, but on reaching 
the soil of New England, he was greeted with something of the same fervor 
that had previously attended him at the North and AV'est. On the 16th of 
July, Kossuth left the country in a steamer for England, after the most ex- 
traordinary tour of modern times, lie had failed in the main object of his 
mission, the enlistment of our government in his doctrine of intervention in 
European jjolitics. 

Oiie of the most interesting of all the incidents which had marked his 
tour, was his visit to the bedside of the great-hearted and genial Henry 
Clay, then near his end. The venerable patriot had witnessed with alarm 
the wild furor with which the American people had welcomed this dis- 
tinguished foreigner, and fearing that his seductive eloquence would betray 
his countrymen into an armed crusade in behalf of Republicanism in 
Europe, he summoned Kossuth to his dying bed, to di.ssuade him against the 
dissemination of doctrines that he considered not only of no avail to the 
cause of liberty on the continent, but which he feared would prove in the 
end disastrous to his own beloved country, to whose welfare a long life of 
pereevering service had attested his devotion. 

The visit of Kossuth to the United States was instructive and not unpro- 
ductive of good results. It was a pleasant interlude in the keen excitement 
and hurry of American life, for the masses to pause and listen to this sur- 
passing orator upon the vital topics of liberty, and the rights of man ; and it 
w;ui gratifying to observe from how, down deep in the public heart came 
the response to those ideas which form the foundation of all that makes us 
great as a people. It was amusing to witness the excitement of some ordi- 
narily very grave citizens, who bawled themselves hoarse in their welcomes 
to the famous Hungarian. Equally amusing was it to observe the disgust 
of others of j.aundiced temperaments at all this popular frenzy, and the ex- 
pres.sions of distrust that came from some jjcople, who meant well, but wlio 
philosophized unhappily. Others there were, too, we were astonished to 



56S ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMEXTS 

fimi, that, althou^'h to " tlie manor born " we had to jmlge were " Bourljona 
among us ; " for so strong was the evidence thej' gave that they had no sj-m- 
path}' in these subjects, that we could but wish that they might pass the 
rest of their days under the most grinding despotism, to get ample expe- 
rience to the pleasantness of the sensation. Poor Chevalier Hiilsemann, 
• whose bout with Webster was fresh in the public memory, was in sore dis- 
tress, and indited several letters to our government, protesting against the 
attentions that were being shown to Kossuth ; the last, a bitter complaint 
that no notice had been deigned to his communications. 

And the crowds that followed Kossuth ! AYhat a variety of character for 
observation ! and what a variety of motive that drew thera together! — the 
keen and miserably selfish politician, ready to rise on the wave of popular 
opinion to popularity and a Avt office — the simple hearted school-boy, big 
with a boy's thoughts, and the thoughts in Fourth of July orations — the 
ladies, and in crushing masses, too ! all talking at once, half crazy with ex- 
citement, pushing against each other, and pushing against the men, and then 
raising on tip-toe to get a peep at a foreigner with a long beard, a wig — he 
had lost his hair in an Austrian dungeon — mild blue eye, winning smile, and 
a most musical voice, that was continually pleading in sad tones for '"' poor, 
down-trodden Hungary," in utterances, too, of that broken English that 
always seems so artless, because so like the half-formed words of little 
children. 

Of Kossuth, it has been said, " He is the living leader of a lo? t. cause. 
His country is ruined — its nationality destroyed, and through his sfforts. 
Yet the Hungarian people lay not this ruin to his charge ; and the first 
lesson taught the infant Magyar is a blessing upon his name. Yet what- 
ever the future n>ay have in store, his efforts have not been lost cTorts. 
The tree which he planted in blood, and agony, and tears, though its tender 
shoots have been trampled down by the Eussiaii bear, will yet spring up 
again to gladden, if not his heart, yet those of his children, or his children's 
children. The man may perish, but the cause endures." 

KEROIC CONDUCT OP CAPTAIN INGRAHAII, OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY, IN 
THE RESCUE OF MARTIN KOSTA FROM THE AUSTRIANS, AT SMYRNA. 

In the summer of 1853, an incident occurred in Smyrna, Turkey, which 
showed such fearless intrepidity in an American naval officer, in the rescue 
of one of the Hungarian refugees, who had been seized and carried a 
prisoner on board an Austrian man-of-war, that when the news of that event 
reached America, a thrill of pride and of joy ran through all the land. 

This oflicer was Captain Ingraham, of the United States Corvette, St. 
Louis, and a native of South Carolina. The Hungarian who was thus res- 
cued from an imprisonment, designed to have terminated in his execution, 
was a young man named Martin Kosta, who had been a captain in the Hun- 
garian army, and who had subsequently emigrated to the United States. 
Various accounts of this event were published at the time, but that which 
we annex is extracted from a letter of an officer ou board the American 
vessel. Passed Midshipman Charles B. Smith, of St. Louis Mo., to his 
brother, then in Paris. 

" We arrived at Smyrna the 23d of June. Immediately after our arrival. 



OF AMERICANS. 



5(59 



ourcousul came on Iwanl and iiifurmod Captain Ingriliam that tlio Austrian 
consul bad, in the most shameful raani:er, seized upon the body of Martin 
Kosta, a lluni;arian refui^ee, upon whose head Austria had set a great price. 
Kosta had belonged to Kossuth's suite, and while in Kew York had ob- 
tained a paper from the New York State autliorities, declaring his intention 
of becoming a citizen of the United States. He left the United Stales 
temporarily, after staying there nearly two years, and came to Smyrna, 
where, on the 22d of Juno, while sitting in a cafe, he was seized by three 
Greek hirelings of the Austrian consul, and carried on board of the Austrian 
brig-of-war Hussar, to be conveyed as a prisoner to Trieste. Our captain 
immediately boarded the brig, and demanded to see Kosta. At first he 
was told he was not on board ; but finally he visited the Austrian consul 
and declared he would see him — that he believed him to be an American 
citizen, and he would have him at all hazards ! Ingrahara then again 
boarded the Austrian vessel, and asked Kosta these, among other ques- 
tions : 'When he left the United States?' 'Why he did so?' and 
Mf he was an American citizen ? ' To these questions he replied : ' I came 
to Smyrna to settle — I am not an American.' This was in the presence of 
the Austrian ofiicers. 

Nothing then could be done. But Caiitain Ingraham was not satisfied, 
as Kosta held a paper from the New Y'ork State authorities, swearing to 
become a citizen of the United States ; and ho therefore wrote immediately 
to our minister at Constantinople, who replied in a very indicisive and 
evasive letter. The captain again wrote to him — Mr. Brown. 

On the 30th of June, a letter was sent on board from the shore, signed 
' Humanitas,' praying in pleading terms the interference (jf our captain for 
Kosta. 

As Captain Ingraham had not received a second reply from Mr. Browji, 
he was determined that the man should not be convej'ed bj' steamer to 
Trieste until Mr. Brown had replied. We immediately got under weigh 
and stood down, anchoring near the brig, fearing she might, unknown to us, 
send Kosta on board the steamer, as it was our intention, should he be 
taken on board, and the steamer jiut to sea, to go after her and release him. 
Of course protests against his removal were made by our consul and captain 
to the Austrian consul, itnder whose directions the captain of the Austrian 
brig was acting. 

In the meantime, an Austrian schooner-of-war came into port. Next 
morning our captain received a letter authorizing him to take Kosta, be it 
by force : the letter staung that he, being an outlaw of Austria, and liolding 
the paper he did, necessarily belonged to the United States. Captain 
Ingraham immediately hoarded the brig, and demanded to see Kosta, and 
asked him again : 

' Are you an Anieriain ? ' 
• I am.' 

' Do you demand protection of the American (lag ? 
'I do.' 

' Then tod bhall have it ! ' 

This time, which was on the 2d of July, the captain .saw Kosta alone : 
before it was in the presence of the Austrian captain, when he thought, 



570 ADVf:XTUHKS AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

fnim the manner in which lie made his replies, that he was frightened. 
Captain Ingraham then informed the Austrian captain of the letter which 
he had received, and, of course, his orders ; and added that he would 
give him four Iwurs in which to deliver Kosta up. The other replied, 'It 
rests with the Austrian consul.' At nine o'clock the American consul came 
on board, and told Captain Ingraham to lengthen the time, whereupon a 
letter was sent, giving until four o'clock, P. M. At eleven o'clock, A. M., 
we cleared ship for action, as did the Austrian brg, schooner, and two 
steamers. We mounted twenty guns, viz : four sixty-eight pounders, and 
sixteen thirtj'-two pounders ; the Austrian brig sixteen thirty-two pound 
carronades ; the schooner ten twelve pound carronades, and the two 
steamers each four twelve pound carronades. We carried two hundred men, 
and they, in all, two hundred and forty. 

All preparations were made, and thousands flocked to the shore to wit- 
ness the fight. A committee of gentlemen on shore, not wishing to see 
bloodshed — and indeed it would have been a hard fiijht — called upon the 
Austrian consul, and the matter was arranged by delivering Kosta up to the 
care of the French consul, who is responsible for his body, to be delivered 
only by the agreement of the Austrian and American consuls. So the 
matter now rests with the two governments. These are the unvarnished 
facts of the occurrence. 

At four o'clock, p. m., Kosta was landed amid the cheering of thousands 
for 'America and Kosta.' Parties were given, and the hospitalities of the 
whole town Avere extended us — there were no persons liJce the Americans. 
That same evening, after Kosta's deliverance, a steamboat tilled with ladies 
and gentlemen came near our ship, serenading us, and shouting most deaf- 
ening cheers for our flag." 

After a lapse of some time, Kosta was set at liberty, and returned and 
settled in the United States. No single event within our day has given 
more wide satisfaction than the noble conduct of our naval officer in rescu- 
ing this unfortunate man on his demand for American protection. While in 
the exercise of his benevolent impulses, Captain Ingraham was firm and 
fearless, even to the point of battling with the whole Austrian fleet ; yet 
when it was all over, and Kosta relieved from peril, it is said, with a 
modesty peculiar to his nature, he was under apprehension of being cen- 
sured for it by his countrymen at home ! This event also created much 
comment in Europe — indignation at the despotic seizure of Kosta on the 
neutral soil of Turkey, and admiration for the heroism of Ingraham, whose 
conduct greatly tended to raise the American character in the estimation of 
foreigners. 

'I'lie Austrian government addressed a protest to the various crowned heads 
of Kurojje, .'igainst the act of Captain Ingraham, and a correspondence also 
ensued on the subject between Chevalier Hiilseraaun 'and iVIr. Marc}', the 
American Secretary of State, in which the latter fully sustained the conduct 
of Ingraham, declaring that Kosta, when seized, had the national character 
of an American, and that the United States had the right to extend its pro- 
tection over him. 




Tlie Heathen of the Five Points. 



NARRATIVE 



OF SOME OF THE 



PniLANTHKOPlC ENTERriilSES 

l.V THE GREAT METROPOLIS (NEW VORK), FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE 

MISERABLE AKD DEGRADED CLASSES. 



To DOUBT that moral evil exists otlierwise than for an eveiitnal good, is 
to question cither the power or benevolenee of the Creator. The world, 
checkered as it is with happiness and misery, is precisely as foreknown, and 
no disappointment with its condition can exist in the Divine Mind. 

Some of the uses of evil are clear to ns. If, with our pre.?ent mental con- 
stitutions, life was an eternal sunshine, with no ills to combat, with no suf- 
fering to relieve, a monotony of ease would ensue, involving the loss of a 
great source of happiness and a discipline which strengthens and ennobles 
character. The greatest glory is in the combat for the welfare of others. 
"It is more blessed to give than to receive," like every axiom of the Gicat 
Teacher, is a vital truth tested by experience. And where this is united 
to self-sacrifice, then the measure of the blessing is as the measure <if llie 
denial. That man who dwells encased in self, is more to be pitied than 
if he had been born lame and blind, for he never can enjoy that most ex- 
quisite of all sensations — the pleasure of doing good. 

In our large cities where men most do congregate, the greatest amount of 
evil, moral and physical, awaits the exertions of the benevolent. Our own 
Xew York is a vast theater for the exercise of man's humanity ; and when 
we behold the amount of woe existing in that great metropolis, we stand 
appalled in view of the gigantic task of its relief. 

During the last twenty years a tide of population has been setting in 
toward these shores to which there is no movement parallel in history. 
Within the past year over three hundred thousand foreigners have landccl 
in New York, or about one thousand per day for every week day. Of tneso 
a portion have been good, sober, hard-working people, who have spread over 
the country and mingled with onr population. Another pa't has been the 
off-scouring of the poorest districts and most degraded cities of the Old 
World, which, in the main, has settled and stagnated in our metropolis. 

The poor and idle of a street grew worse by having poor and idle neigh- 
bors. The respectable and industrious moved out of certain quarters, and 
Euch places as the Five Points began to be known. Streets once inhabited by 
the best of people (Lower Pearl, Cherry and Dover streets), being aban- 
doned, have since been held mostly by lodging houses of the ]ioorest im- 
migrants. The children of this class have naturally grown up under the 

(571) 



57:3 ADVKXTUKES AKD xVClIIEVEilEXTS 

concciilratcJ influences of tlio poverty auJ vice around tliem. By tlie re- 
port of Matsell, Chief of Police, some ten years liince, it appears tbat thero 
were even then ten thousand vagrant children in the city, and in eleven 
wards nearly tliree thousand children were engaged in thieving, of whom 
two thirds were girls between tlie ages of eight and sixteen. In one ward, 
there were twelve thousand children ; of these, nine thousand were destitute 
of public religious influence. 

In.stitutions have been established witliin a few years in the city, which, 
although young, have attracted great attentioa from the blessings they have 
produced. As American enterprises of a noble character, we are pleased to 
present this account of them, as given us by a lady friend. They are tiie 
Children's Aid Society, the Industrial and Mission Sohoolfi, etc., etc. These 
are directed mainly to the reformation of the juvenile portion of tlie de- 
graded classes ; thus attacking vice and crime before the iron habits of ma- 
ture life should render hopeless all attempts at reform. 

The Childbed's Aid Society was founded a few years since by the Rev. 
Charles L. Brace, a gentleman of education, and noted as a traveler. While 
in Europe during the period of the Hungarian War, he devoted his best 
thoughts and energies to the condition of the poor and the degraded of the 
Old World. As be traveled from point to point, he inquired into the re- 
sults of the various experiments making for their moral and spiritual wel- 
fare. He soon became convinced of the truth of the remark of Talleyrand, 
that " the vilest of people are not formidable to him who approaches them 
in a spirit of kindness." On his return to New York, he began his benev- 
olent efforts to arouse the public mind to the great work of elevating and 
reforming the lowest poor. " The persons here to be aided and Christianized," 
said he, "are not pagans and heathen, in lands where the very difliculties 
make the work heroic, and where the associations of tliousands of years 
of history throw a romantic and factious interest about our labors." The 
result of his statements, followed by eloquent appeals, was the establish- 
ment of this society, of which he is the secretary. Their oiiice is at No. 
11 Clinton Hall, Astor Place. Their business is transacted by Mr. Brace 
and his assistants, in reference to the different objects of benevolence under 
bis supervision. At all hours of the day, groups of men, women, and chil- 
dren are in attendance, waiting to tell the sad story of their sorroivs — to be 
provided with employment, or to meet individuals who are about to take 
them to new homes in the country. Packages of old and new clothing are 
also received at the office and distributed by the visitors connected with the 
institution. 

'i'here are no lodging-rooms in the building, but vagrant boys are placed 
temporarily at the News Boys' Lodging-llouse. A building given by Mr. 
Grinnell in the Fourth Ward, for an Industrial School, ha.s been used as a 
temporary home for girls. The list subjoined will show where the visitors 
found these young girls and rescued them just at the fearful turning point 
between puri'ty and vice : Girls taken from the Tombs Prison, ten ; found 
without a home, tweuty-threo ; beaten and turned out, two ; found in the 
streets (some nearly starved), seven ; came in sick, etc., eight ; vagrants, 
from the office of the Society, twenty-eight. Total lodgers in fine year, 
eighty-two 



OF AMERICANS. 573 

The Xews Boys' Lodging-IIodse is in the fifdi stnry of Uio Sun office, 
Nassau street. It is an important brancli of the Cliililren's Aid Society, 
and is under the superintendence of Rev. C. G. Tracy. It has been suc- 
cessful in elevating a class who wore once called by the police the banditti 
of the city. A cut prefacing this article is a representation of tiiat class of 
"heathen" in an unconverted state. One of their rooms is furnished with 
neat little beds, for which the boys pay sixpence a'lodging, inclnding a bath 
in an adjoining room. The amount aside from this charge of sixpence neces- 
iary to ssupport the establishment, is given by the society. If the visitor 
can drop in of an evening, he may find the boys assembled at their desks, 
eng.aged in reading or study, or quietly listening to some familiar lecture 
from one of their many friends. And a new book presented to their little 
library, will give the visitor a warm place in the affection of these sharp 
little traders. It is wonderful to witness the tact, ingenuity, and assiduous 
care which is constantly exercised toward them by their kind superintend- 
ent. In addition to his other cares, Mr. Tracy has of late assumed the 
charge of conducting these boys to new homes provided for them in differ- 
ent parts of the country. His letters are so replete with interest that some 
extracts from them will be given in this article ; may they be the means of 
eliciting aid for the many wretched and friendless children, who are de- 
pendent upon this society for their hopes of happiness both here and here- 
after. 

The Boys' Meetings is another department of the same society. Those, 
says Mr. Brace, will' be important links in a chain of inlluences connecting 
the multitude of benevolent, who wish to help, with the multitude of va- 
grant children, who perish for the lack of aid. 

The visitor of the Children's Aid Society, in searching the docks, and 
lumber yards, and low lodging-houses, finds ample materials fur his Sun- 
day gatherings. lie is careful not to excite their prejudice by speaking of 
poor and ragged boys ; but scatters numerous cards of invitation to a " Boys' 
Meeting." These are held in a loft in a warehouse, or some other room 
that can be procured, at a trifling expense. Then the most interesting 
speakers that can be procured are enlisted in the work. " These," says Mr. 
Brace, " must be men of sense ; the vagrant boy sees through any humbug ; 
they must regard these helpless, forsaken ones ivs their brethren, and not 
forget that in working for the least of these, they are working for Christ. 
The leader must have several with him to gather in the boys, and assist in 
singing and speaking. But they should all be men of force ; and, above 
all, with a patient, good nature." The following incident will show the im- 
portance of this qualification, in addressing an audience who have never en- 
tered a church, and who have not the slightest idea of veneration. A friend 
of the writer has acquired great tact in securing the sympathy and intei st 
of these bright little urchins. He does not attempt to present abstrae. 
truths or mere exhortations ; but ho never fails to fix the attention of the 
boys, while presenting the truths of Christianit}' in a narrative form, avoid- 
ing merely religious phrases, but enforcing duty by vivid illustrations. Ou 
one occasion, he called upon a friend to assist him. The speaker, a tall, 
dignified man, with auburn hair, and pleasing expression of countenance, 
nrose and commenced : 



574 ADVEXTUUES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

" My young friomls, I shall occupy but a few moments in addressing you." 
The boys listened attentively for a time ; but at length he became i:)rosy. 
They shuffled and whisjjered, and one near the door, to the delight of his 
companions, addressed the speaker in the following laconic manner : "Time's 
up, Sandy ! " 

Some of our most distinguished public speakers have never acquired the 
art of addressing cliihlren. A certain doctor of divinity once assembled 
his Sabbath School, and commenced the following exordium : 

"My dear little children, I am now about to give you a syllabus of the 
doctrines contained in the Assembly's Catechism. But it may be, that you 
do not apprehend syllabus. Syllabus, my young friends, is equivalent to 
sipiopsis." 

Such speakers would find themselves out of place among the little heathen 
composing the audiences convened in these Boys' Meetings. 

Industrial Schools have been established in various parts of the city, 
and conducted with great success. These encourage industry, as the gar- 
ments made are given to the children by the way of reward. In all these 
schools, the ragged are provided with clothing in a manner which is calcu- 
lated to cherish a feeling of independence, and remove the disposition for 
begging, which is so prevalent among the poor. Each article of clothing is 
valued at a certain number of marks, and the children are permitted to earn 
their own garments by marks for good behavior and scholarship; and the 
most industrious can take home some articles of clothing for a needy brother 
or sister. In giving to this society, the stranger may rest assured that all 
of his money will be used directly for the object designated — none will be 
epent on buildings and fixtures. The way in which the designs of the be- 
nevolent are often misapplied, is illustrated by the well known anecdote of 
the sailor, who, on being called on in a church to give to some charity, 
dropped one dollar in the bos, then added two more to " pay expenses." 

Another department of the efforts of Mr. Brace, is the providing of homes 
in the West for the poor seamstresses of the city, who are sufiering for the 
want of employment. No sight is more affecting than that of virtuous, 
friendless females, in the midst of the selfishness of a large city, struggling 
to eke out a bare subsistence, by that most miserable, life-destroying and 
illy-paid of all avocations — the needle. 

Mission Schools are Sabbath Schools, established in neighborhoods des- 
titute of gospel privileges. They form a nucleus, in their working, for the 
formation of new churches. 

The locality called " The Five Points," so named from the fact that five 
streets there corner, has been the most famous seat of degradation and woe 
on this continent. Situated in the very heart of the metropolis, it was the 
great plague-spot of nioral pollution and death; a nauseous sink of filthy 
poverty and beastly crime. Two noble institutions now stand ujiou the 
spot, "The Ladies' Mission" and "The Five Points' House of Industry." 

That eminent laborer for the suffering poor, Mr. Lewis M. Pease, re- 
moved to the Five Points, with his wife, in the spring of 1850, and estab- 
lished there one Christian Home, with the hope of leavening this mass of 
crime and woe with the leaven of the gospel. There he labored with un- 
tiring zeal, visiting damp and polluted cellars, dark garrets, and dilapidated 



OF AMERICANS. 575 

buildir^s, to aid Uie miserable wretches n-ho appeared Jestitule of every- 
thing but filth and crime. 

The wretched state of this spot, when Frederika Bremer wrote her 
" Homes of the New World," is therein thus described by her : " Lower 
than the Five Points," slie says, "it is not possible for human nature to 
sink. Quarrels and blows, theft and even murder, belong to the order of 
the day and the night. There is in the square, in particular, one large, 
yellow-colored, dilapidated old house, called ' The Old Brewery,' which 
is properly the head-quarters of vice and misery ; and the old Brewer of all 
the world's misery has dominion there at this day. I wandered through 
this dark realm of shadows and hell, however, accompanied by an angel of 

light. I cannot otherwise speak of Mrs. G , the Quaker lady, whoso 

countenance was bright and beautiful as the purest goodness. . . . Wo 
went alone through these hidden dens, considering it safer than in company 
with a gentleman. We saw imfortunate women suffering from horrible dis- 
eases ; sickh- children ; giddy young girls ; ill-tempered women, quarreling 
with the whole world ; unabashed, hardened crime, filth, rags, and pesti- 
lential air. The oif-scouring of society flows hither, and I wished to visit 
the Five Points, that I might make a closer acquaintance with that portion 
of the life of New York which belongs to the night side ; to the dark 
realm of shadows and hell, as it exists in this great city." 

The old Brewery to which Miss Bremer alludes, is alike famous and in- 
famous in song and story. It was erected in 1792, and nsed as a brewery by 
one Coulter. In 1830, it was partitioned into oddly shaped, ill-contrived 
apartments, so arranged as to afford convenient hiding-places for the thieves 
and pickpockets, who herded at the Five Points. Over three hundred peo- 
])le, the filthiest and vilest of the scum of the city, dwelt in this building, 
which was eventually purchased by the ladies, who destroyed the foul nest, 
and reared upon its ruins their New Mission House. A vivid sketch of a 
visit there in the day of its degradation, is herein extracted from a little 
work called "The Old Brewery," published for the benefit of the Ladies' 
Mission : 

"An alley extends all around the building, wide at the entrance and grad- 
ually tapering to a point. On the south, it is known as the Murderer's 
Alleij, a filthy path three feet in width. The dark, winding passages afford 
convenient modes of escape for criminals. In the floor of one of the upper 
rooms, a place was found where the boards had been sawed ; upon tearing 
them up, human bones were found — the remains, no doubt, of a victim of 
some diabolical murder. 

The upper part of the ])remi8es, once plastered, has now a broken wall, 
mended in some places by pasting newspapers, but often revealing unsightly 
holes. The under part is still worse ; in one room, fifteen feet square, we 
found twenty-six human beings. A man could scarcely stand erect in it ; two 
men were sitting by the blaze of a few sticks, as w'e entered ; women lay on 
a mass of filthy, unsightly rags, in the corner — sick, feeble, and emaciated ; 
six or seven children were in various attitudes in the corner ; at an old 
table, covered with a few dishes, two women were peeling ofi" the skins of 
tomatoes, with their finger-nails ; and the smoke and stench of the room 
were too sullbcating to be endured. The announccnient tliat, in addition to 



576 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

the misfortune of poverty, tliey had the measles also, started most of our 
party in a precipitate retreat from the premises. 

Our way had been explored over the building by the aid of a single lamp, 
in company with two gentlemen and a guide. Beside these, there were a 
number of rough looking customers, who appeared to share our interest in 
the scene. But it was not till one of the gentlemen complained, in a dark 
passage-way, of a strange hand in his pocket, that these characters were 
suspected. Then our guide informed us, in an under tone, that we were 
surrounded by a gang of the most notorious pickpockets and thieves of that 
section ; that we must take good care of our watches, or we should lose 
them before we were aware. To grope one's way, at night, through such dark 
passages, when the light was in sight only a part of the time, and to be 
surrounded with a crowding, pushing gang of desperadoes, was not pleasant." 

Much was said to deter the ladies from establishing a mission at the Five 
Points. The idea of confronting this indescribable wretchedness, and ming- 
ling with drunkards, thieves, prostitutes, and murderers, was enough to 
sicken and appall the most courageous. The ladies were told, that " no one, 
who valued their life or honor, could venture within this murderous cess- 
pool of human wickedness." But Mr. Pease was willing to make the at- 
tempt ; and after much difficulty, they succeeded in hiring a gin-shop, at the 
comer of Little-Water and Cross streets, which, when cleaned and prepared 
for an audience, was capable of seating about two hundred persons. The 
novelty of this cfTort secured them a congregation. Let us look in upon 
Mr. Pease, the first Sabbath of his missionary labors. He is aided by the 
pious ladies, who have entered ujjon this labor of love, with an unfailing 
trust in the efficacy of the gospel to save the very chief of sinners. 

The bell rings, and seventy little ragged and dirty urchins come tumbling 
in ! Was ever such a Sabbath school collected in a Christian land ? The 
idea of law and order was to them a thing unknown. They stood upon 
their heads — knocked each other down, and, to the dismay of the kind 
ladies, performed all kinds of feats in ground and lofty tumbling. Poor 
little, degraded creatures — heirs of kicks and neglect — abandoned by parents, 
or ruined, soul and body, by their vicious examples — what better things 
could be expected of them? They could not believe that these kind ladies 
really loved them, and that the missionary had come to try and make them 
happy. In the language of the first report, " Mr. Pease preached the first 
sermon to about as heterogeneous a mass of rags and filth as ever disgraced 
humanity." 

But out of all this chaos, harmony and order were by degrees established. 
Intemperanoe, the greatest enemy of the mission, was met with temperance 
songs, temperance sj^eechcs, and private visits and entreaties ; and during 
the first year, some of those who had signed the temperance pledge, were 
from the very dregs of the crowded inmates of the old Brewery. 

At the close of the year, when Mr. Pease's services were no longer re- 
quired by the ladies, and Mr. Luckey was appointed to bo their missionary, 
an Industrial Establishment was opened by Mr. Pease. He believed that 
many were driven to the wretched alternative of vice or starvation ; anil 
he felt that it was important to provide honest employment for those who 
were willing to live an honest life ; for employers were not willing to trust 



OF AMEltlCANS. 577 

their work to these abanjoncil creiitures, to be taken to a jilace which they 
consiilei'eil a den of Ihieve-s. If they could have the advantage of a work- 
shop by day, which would also give them a shelter by night, he felt that 
those he was struggling to reform, would be beyond the reach of tempta- 
tion. 

The whole work was then an experiment ; and there were those who felt 
that Mr. Pease was turning aside from his missionary duties, and not placing 
sufficient reliance on the efficacy of the gospel. But whatever may have 
been the cause of Mr. Pease's separation from the Ladies' Mission, it is evi- 
dent that they could not have disapproved of his obeying the gospel re- 
quirement, to feed the hungry and clothe the naked ; for they have con- 
tinued to blend physical relief with their faithful efforts to convert the soul 
to God. And now that two noble institutions, strong and mighty for good, 
have followed this separation, we can but rejoice at the result- 
Thousands of dollars were cheerfully given to build the " Fivu Points' 
House of Indostby." Work for the inmates, however, has never to a great 
extent been forthcoming. Philanthropists and Christian mamifaeturers ilo 
not wish to associate their business with the dregs of liumanity ; and if 
work is to be supplied, it must be done by removing the laborcis to the 
West, where there is enough work and bread for all. 

We continue this sketch of American Philanthropy, by taking the reader, 
in imagination, to Paradise Park, a small triangular space in tlie center of 
the Five Points, upon the first occasion, when the friends of the mission 
were obeying the injunction of the Saviour, to "make a feast and call the 
poor, the maimed, the halt, and the blind." 

"The morning of Th.anksgiving," writes one of the lady friends pre- 
sent, "dawned in cloudless beauty, and the cool bracing atmosi)here and 
glowing sunshine seemed to inspire every heart with courage. We met in 
the office of the Old Brewery, a low, long room, with crooked and stained 
walls. Its only furniture, beside the missionary book-ei:se, being some 
benches and the boxes of clothing, supplied by friends from abroad. Pro- 
visions began to arrive, and soon presented a ludicrous aspect. Turkej'S, 
chickens, and meats of every kind, mingled in confusion with cakes, pies, 
fruit, etc.; huge piles of clothing, waiting for distribution; visitors pouring 
in, and childish faces peeping through every window and open door I 

The mammoth tent of the City Temperance Society, was erected in the 
little Park. It is circular, and very lofty. Around it were tiers of seats, 
meeting at a platform. Some evergreens were festooned from tables the 
length of the tent, arranged, leaving wide passages between for the visitors. 
By this time, hundreds of ragged, dirty children had collected around the 
tent and the Old Brewery. A passage-way was cleared, and tlic la<lies 
and gentlemen were transformed into carriers and waiters. (We could not 
trust the little rebels to help, though we had plenty of offers). As they 
passed through r.ank and file of the hungry watchers, loud clieers were 
given for every turkej', and three, long and loud, for a whole pig, with a 
lemon in its mouth. 

During these preparations, the ladies wore trying to select, first, our Sab- 
bath School children, and then any others who seemi'd hopeful. 'I'licso 



57S ADVEXTUJtES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

were washed and dressed. At half jiast four, all was ready, and they en- 
tered in procession, singing, 

" The mom of hope is breaking— 

The darkuess disappears: 

For the Five Poiuts aie wakiug 

To peuiteutial tears ; " etc. 

The}' took the circuit of the tent, then stood around the tables with 
folded hands, while Mr. Luckey asked a blessing. Not a hand was raised ; 
not a voice heard, till the food was served. Then all was glad commotion, 
and then was the time for joyous tears. Three hundred and seventy poor, 
neglected, helplesi children, placed for an hour in an atmosphere of love and 
gladness, woed and wou to cling to those whose inmost hearts were strug- 
gling in earnest prayer for grace aud wisdom to lead them unto God ! 
With tearful eyes, the assembly gazed upon them. 

" ChilJrcu, who seldom kuow a parent's care. 
In whom the woes of elder years are seen — 
Whose earliest steps must be upon a snare, 
Unless some watchful sti'anger intervene, 
And stand — those frail young things aud the dark gulf, between." 

In the central aisle, was placed the stand for toys and cornucojjias of 
candy, a gift for each of the children as they passed out the tent. There 
was now an interval of a few moments. The tables were hastily rejilen- 
ished ; and then notice was given to visitors, that the outsiders would then 
enter, about whom the ladies knew nothing, save that they were poor atid 
wretched. Visitors were warned to take care of their pocket-books and 
watches. They came in scores; nay, in hundreds! and surrounded the 
tables ; men, women, and children ; ragged, dirty, and forlorn ! What 
countenances we read, 

" Mctims of ceaseless toil, and want, aud care ! " 

And the children who accompanied them, miniature likeness, both physi- 
cally and morally. Alas ! we could scarcely hope to snatch these freni the 
vortex ; but we spoke to them words of kindness, and they partook till not 
a fragment was left. Sixty turkeys, chickens, geese, hams, beef, and tongue, 
with pies, cake, fruit, and candy pyramids — all had vanished ; then quietly 
they left the tent. 

t>iir weary company now hastened over to the Old Brewery, which was 
illuminated from evorj' window. With joy, we looked forward to the 
happy day, when from this mission a light would emanate, both mental and 
moral, of which this illumination would be only the foreshadowing and the 
faint emblem" 

Reader! when you visit New York, and saunter down Broadway, amid 
the refinements and luxuries of life, remember that three minules walk will 
bring you to the Five Points. Turn aside, and gaze upon this region — once 
the central point of misery and crime; and as you view the two noblo 



OF AMERICANS. 579 

structures that h.ive been reared by Christian beneficence, reflect how mucli 
poverty, distress, and crime have been prevented ! Enter that House of 
Industry, and the New Mission House ; or visit the Astor Phice, and sea the 
groups of little children, prepared by the Children's Aid Society for a land 
of hope in the Far West— it will all be an experience to you well worth 
the having. 

The Five Points' House of Industry is a noble structure — seven stories 
high, fire proof, and most admirably constructed. There is a fine children's 
phiy room — largo and airy school-rooms and work rooms ; dormitories and 
private rooms for the resident family and teachers. The entire number of 
inmates, since its establishment, exceeds five thousand. Of these, twentv- 
eight hundred, principally children, ha?e found homes; in the country. The 
entire property of the institution, including a country farm which belongs to 
it, amounts to sixty thousand dollai-s, including a recent be(iuest of twenty 
thousand from M. Sickles, a devoted friend of the cause. 

The scene which strikes the beholder, in the chapel of the Five Points' 
House of Industry, when all the little, fatherless ones are collected for wor- 
ship and instruction, is heart-touching. How vivid is the picture, as drawn 
by one of their instructors, and copied below : 

" On entering the chapel, the long rows of children sitting erect upon 
their elevated seats, meet my eager gaze ; and as I talce my accustomed 
place before them, they greet me with their sparkling eyes and sunny fiices. 
As tny eye wanders involuntarily over the happy group, it soon rests upon 
the laughing, curly-headed Jewish girl, known as 'Dummy.' There she 
sits, her intelligent face all wreathed with smiles, her heart all light with 
sunshine, and warm with affection. I love her — dearly love her — and so 
do all who know her. A smile will make her countenance radiant with 
delight, while a cold look, or frown, will fill her eyes with tears. Though 
she cannot hear, her quick eye notices every motion. When the children 
sing, though she cannot articulate a word, she opens her mouth as wide, and 
makes her little lips move as fast as any of them ; and when, during 
prayer, the children cover their eyes with their hands, she follows their ex- 
ample — peeping between her fingers to see when it is finished. Her place 
is never vacant. She is the first to greet me when I enter, and the last to 
relinquish her hold upon my hand when I leave for home. That little tiny 
thing by her side, with a face so round and ruddy, and beautifully vailed 
with curling ringlets, is her sister Ella, two years younger than herself. 
Sec how lovingly her little head is laid in Dummy's lap, while she twines 
her glossy hair about her fingers. 

A few seats above, sits a little blind girl. I never look upon her without 
a feeling of sadness. She hears the children sing and answer questions, and 
does the same herself, but their faces she never looked upon. The world is 
all dark to her. Occasionally you will see her passing her hands over the 
heads and faces of her young companions, and gently running her fingers 
through their hair, thus trying to gain some knowledge of their appearance. 
The children all love her, and vie with each other in their little acts of 
kindness to her. When she wishes to come to school, some one is always 
ready to lead her; and when the hour arrives forgoing home, a score of 
little hands are caserlv profi'ered for her acceptance. 
37 



580 ADVKNTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

A noise at the door at racts the attention of the children, and my eyes 
involuntarily turn with theirs, to discover its occasion. The utmost still- 
ness prevails, and a feeling of sympathy seems to pervade ever}' heart, 
while a little girl, poorly clad, with thin, gaunt face clouded with sadness, 
hobbles in on crutches, for she has but one leg. Last winter, while she was 
playing in Center street, the cars ran over her, and so mutilated one of her 
legs that it had to be amputated. Poor child ! we all pity her, fur she has 
her full share of affliction. The loss of a limb is bad enough — the loss of 
father and mother, in one's innocent, unprotected childhood, is worse ; but 
the loss of their sympathy, their kind admonitions and good example, in 
those tender years, while they still live — cursed and cursing by rum, is in- 
comparably worse. When she joins with the children in their sweet songs, 
the sadness of her little face occasionally gives place to sunshine; but it is 
only for a little while ; for when night comes, she must return again to her 
home, made miserable by the intemperance of her parents. 

Close up in the corner there, with her eyes as black as her face, and her 
face as black as ebony, sits little Topsy. She is as cunning as a fox ; and 
though she has seen but four 3-ears, she is as old as most girls three times 
her age. No child in school is more orderly or attentive ; and once a day, 
rain or shine, punctual to the hour, she may be seen in our second hall, stand- 
ing near the entrance of the bread-room, with a clean, white towel in one 
hand and a card in the other, on the back of which is written, in large let- 
ters, words which she cannot read, but the import of which she fully com- 
prehends. If not immediately waited upon, she does not become impatient : 
for that mystic card, with its broad and truthful letters, assures her that her 
wish will ere long be gratified. Soon the door to the bread-room opens ; 
there stands Top.sy, her eyes sparkling with delight, holding high up to the 
gaze of the envious urchins, the magic card, on which is written ; 'The bearer 
is entitled to one loaf of bread per day.' Topsy's mother lives in a dark 
and fearful place, in Cow-bay. She occupies a little room in an old, tum- 
ble-dowp. building, with none but thieves and abandoned women around 
her, whose drunken brawls make the night hideous. Though compelled by 
poverty to live in such a place, she is almost always happy, and especially 
w'hen she has succeeded, by scrubbing or washing, in earning sufficient to 
pay the rent of her little room and supply her with the most common ne- 
cessities of life. 

On the seat close by Topsy, with her sister sleeping in her arms, sits a 
little black-eyed French girl. She is poorly clad, but her heart is rich in 
sisterly affection. Love sits laughing on her countenance, and makes even 
the bitterness of poverty sweet. Her eyes are fixed upon the speaker's, ex- 
cept when an occasional glance is given to her little charge. 

Sitting close by my side, and playing alternately with my watch-chain, 
my buttons, and my fingers, and then rubbing her soft, silken hair against 
my hands, is a little, fat dumpling, with rosy cheeks. She is a dear little 
creature — as affectionate and playful as a kitten — with a voice as sweet and 
musical as the birds of spring, and a heart just as full as it can hold of sym- 
pathy and love. She has a little brother, almcst exactly like her, and two 
vears older than herself Their mother is dead, and their father has left 
them to the charity of strangers, and gone Imck to England. They would 



OF AMEUICANS. aSl 

have been adopted long ago, had it not been that little Ella, while she pos- 
sesses so many desirable qualities, has lost the sight of one of her eyes. Is 
there not some mother, whose Utile ones 'Our Father' has talvcu to himself, 
who would like to fill their places with our dear one-eyed Ella and her 
brother Johnny? 

Turning my eyes toward the audience, a lad of fourteen attracts my at- 
tention, lie looks so much like ono of our ' Ilouse ' boys. Can it be — yes, 
it !>— Freddy ! But he has on a new suit of clothes, and looks so different, 
I hardly know him. He is constantly looking iu the face of the gentleman 
beside him, and they both seem very hapjiy. Last Sunday he sat among 
the chddren, with his face clouded by tlie uncertainty of his future destiny ; 
to-day a different spirit seems to possess him. What can it mean ? Let us 
listen, for he is about to tell his own story. 'Freddy,' says Mr. Pease, 
would you like to tell us your histor\-, and bid good-by to the children ? ' 
Freddy, with a fluttering heart and a tear iu his eye, comes upon the plat- 
form. ' I never made a speech in my life ; but I shall never see you again, 
and I want to tell you a short sketch of my history. My first recollection 
was living with my father and mother in the City of London. They were 
rich, and I had everything that I wanted ; but after awhile, my father in- 
dorsed for a friend, and lost a great deal of money ; soon after which we 
moved to Kew York, and lived in Canal street. We got along well for a 
little while, but soon everything went wrong; for father began to drink, 
and then we went down, and down ! till we were very poor. 

We then went to Cbicago, but there father drank harder than ever. One 
day he went out, leaving us cold and hungry. He nevoi- came back again ; 
for the cholera and hard drinking killed him. After father's death, mother 
grieved so that she soon followed him ; and then I was left all alone. I had 
no money or friends ; but I thought if I could only get back to London, I 
could find friends who knew father when he was rich, and they would help 
me. I worked my passage from Chicago to New York. When I got here, 
I wandered around the wharfs, into the shipping-offices, and on board the 
ships ; but nobody wanted me, because I was a strange boy, and had no 
recommendations. I was poor — didn't have a penny, or any place to sleep in 
but the station-house, or around the docks ; and at last I sat down on the 
wharf and cried. While I was crying, some one told me to go to Mr. 
Pease's. I didn't know where it was, but a policeman told me, and after 
awhile I found it. Mr. Pease spoke kindly to me, and told me I could 
come here to live, and he would be like a father to me. My heart was so 
full I couldn't speak, and I had to sit down and cry. I couldn't help it. I 
have been here a few weeks, and have learned to love Mr. and Mrs. Pease, 
and the teachers and children. Yesterday that gentleman came here and 
adopted me, and said I should be his boy, and that he would take me to 
his home in the Vv'^est, and make a man of me — perhaps a lawyer, like him- 
self — if I would be a good hoy. I mean to try and be the best boy I can. 
Children, many of you have no father or mother; but if you are good, Mr. 
and Mrs. Pease will be your father and mother. children, try and be good ! 
And now, good-by ; for I shan't see you any more. Good-by, Mr. and Mrs. 
Pease — good-by, kind teachers ! ' And then the manly little fellow, de- 
scending from the p.atform. took each by the hand, bidding them good-by 



582 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMENTS 

in such a kind, toucliing manner, that many oyes filled with tears, and even- 
heart was moved with tender emotion." 

To this word-painting of the scene in the chapel, we add another from ono 
of those faithful missionaries, describing a scene but too common in their 
errands of mercy in search of the neglected little outcasts, to bring them 
within the warm, loving folds of their noble institution : 

" In the after-part of a bleak December day, as I sat within my office, the 
storm raging without, and ray mind dwelling upon the distress it must in- 
evitably occasion to the thousands of unprotected poor, I chanced to re- 
member two little ones, the children of drunken parents, who lived a few 
doors away. 

I had often found them in gieat want, and v^'as fearful the}- might new 
be in need of some kind attention ; so putting on my overcoat, I started for 
that habitation of misery. The house in which they lived bad, for the 
neighborhood, quite a decent exterior appearance ; but within, almost every 
conceivable abomination existed. In reaching their room, I passed through 
■d, long, filthy hall, blackened by smoke, and by poisonous gases arising from 
stagnant water and heaps of decaying vegetable matter, that had for years 
been accumulating in the cellar. 

1 rapped at the door, but heard no reply. I rapped again, and again, till 
finally some one, in a half-choked voice, said, 'Come in.' My hand had 
already found the string ; I pulled it, and found my way into a small room, 
half under ground. The low, dingy walls were covered with cobwebs, and 
its only window broken to pieces. The three lower lights were boarded 
up, and all but two of the remainder stufi'ed with old hats and rags. Xo 
ray of God's sunshine ever penetrated that filthy abode. 

On entering the room, my attention was first attracted by an overturned 
stove, with lids, pipes, soot, coals and ashes scattered about the floor. The 
ill-matched, rust-eaten pipe, in falling, had knocked down an old picture- 
frame, and shivered the last bit of a looking-glass, which had been- pre- 
served as a relic of better days. 

On the dirty floor, in the midst of this scene of confusion, with legs ex- 
tended, and almost naked, feet bare, and his whole body shaking with cold, 
sat one of the objects of my visit, a boy five years old. lie was holding in 
his lap a half-rotton head of cabbage, from which he kept picking, and 
I'reedily eating the frozen leaves. So intent was he on satisfying his appe- 
tite, that he scarcely noticed my entrance. Scattered around him were the 
contents of an old basket, from which he had made his selection. They 
were decayed potatoes, frozen apples, and turnips, pigs' ears and calves' 
feet; and among a variety of other things, a sheep's head, with its eyes 
staring right at me. These things were collected by the mother, either by 
begging or stealing them from the gutters of Washington Market. Hera 
was not all the fruits of her day's labor, for on her way home she had 
stopped, as was her custom, at a vile, penny soup-house, and parted with 
the choicest bits for rum. 

A few feet removed from the boy, and nearly behind the door, sat the 
mother, in an old rickety chair, her head fallen back, her eyes closed, her 
mouth wide open, her hair disheveled about her face and neclf, her arms 
hanging by her side, and her breath labored. Oh ! what a mockery of God's 



F AMERICAN'S. 583 

image ! what a terrible wreck of liis heaiitifiil Iiaiidiwork ! Leaning against 
her, bare-footed, half-clad, dirty and ragged, folding to hor shivering bosom 
a dry loaf of bread, stood a wan, sunken-eyed girl, only three years old. 
She cost on me a look of recognition, took the bread in her skeleton fingers, 
«.\tended it toward me, a smile lighting up her sad and sickly features, and 
exclaimed: 'I've got bread!' That smile was meteor-like; it lingered 
but a moment, then vanished, leaving her face darker than before. She 
dropped her head, pressed the bread back to her bosom again, drew a long 
breath, and sighing said, 'Mother's drunk.' My breast swelled with intense 
agony. I could not refrain from exclaiming aloud, '0 God ! wliat has this 
little child done, that a smile, thus cheaiily purchased, must so soon be 
driven away by the consciousness of a mother's shame ?' 

Childhood ! — man's common, j-et unconscious, foretaste of heaven — last 
relic of his Eden state — what immeasurable guilt must rest on those who 
Epoil thy young years, or leave thee to be thus fearfully outraged. 

These little innocents were taken to the House of Industry, and carefully 
cared for; but neglect and want had so weakened their hold on life, that 
they were soon added to the number of the little ones above." 

The Ladies' Mission, at the Five Points, continues to be cminenth- suc- 
cessful. They have labored faithfully to reform the vicious, and to bring 
all under their influence. Let us follow one of these ladies to the home of 

a dying mother. Mrs. D hastened to her bedside. Kissing her hands 

again and again, she said, " I am about to leave you, my dear friend, and 
I wish you to take care of my orphans." The promise was given, and 
faithfully performed through the Children's Aid Society. Some one pro- 
jmsed to call the priest. "No, no !" she said ; "the Lord Jesus is with me. 
Let there be no wake over my body — no liquor drank when I am buried ! " 
This charge was given to hor husband ; and then she continued communing 
with God. 

The mother was laid in the grave; and deep was the solicitude of that 
lady's heart for the children thus solemnly committed to her care. The 
only hope for their future well-being, was to transplant those young immor- 
tals to a more congenial soil, and to a better atmosphere, than that of the 
Five Points. A happy home was offered by Mr. Brace, who pledged him- 
self that the Children's Aid Society should kindly cherish the little or- 
phans, and seek out a new home for them in the Great West. Their ticket 
had boon secured, and while waiting, Barney, one of the children, w.-is told 
of a poor boy departing under less favorable circumstances to the West, 
who became one of the chief judges in the State in w-hich he resided. The 
boy's eye kindled, his form .straightened, and he exclaimed, "You shall 
see, sir, what I will become !" Ye.s, wo shall see : for the Children's Aid 
Society will not cease to care for these little orphans. 

In their last report, Mr. Brace writes : " The year jjast has boon peculiarly 
valuable in furnishing us proofs, which only time could furnish, of the re- 
sult of placing children in new homes. This, wo regard as the most im- 
portant br.anch of our enterprises. Two or more letters have been written 
to every one of the two thousand and odd children, whose addresses are yet 
known, and the replies of those received, in the great majority of cases, 
Have been most encouraging and hopeful. 



584 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

This correspondence shows what simple liindness c,v« do for the out- 
cast. The poor vagabond bo}', or the child whom misfortune has madu 
wretched and homeless, goes to a quiet country home. lie is not under a 
system ; ho is not put by name as a vagrant ; he is not mingling with others 
who are as miserable, and perhaps more unprincipled than himself. He does 
not feel himself the member of an asylum, where, at the best, with the 
kindest officers, the care can only be general and public. He is one of a 
little Christian family. He sits at the same table with the farmer's family, 
and goes to school with his children ; his habits are closely watched by 
them, and ho watches theirs. He hears the morning prayer ; he reads the 
'sweet story of old,' with his little companions ; he learns what they think 
to be proper and right. Perhaps, as we often hear from our letters, the poor 
lad, remembering the dirty cellars, and the alleys filled with garbage, and 
the filthy holes of the great city, wonders with delight at the great orchards, 
and the lilacs, and the green grass, and the pure air, of his new home. 
Soon, perhaps for the first time in his life, love begins to encircle the little 
castaway, and he feels, at length, there is somebody in the world who cares 
for him. What wonder, if sometimes the soul of the young vagrant, in 
this new atmosphere, as plants under spring sunlight, blossoms forth sud- 
denly, with such fair flowers as we do not see spring at once in other classes 
of life. Some of our letters seem to point to this ; letters so personal that 
we are not at liberty to publish them." 

Of the tens of thousands of destitute children in New York, how many 
might thus be provided with happy homes, if the interest of the humane 
and Christian public could be enlisted in their behalf! 

" This association," says Mr. Brace, " has sprung from the increasing sense 
among our citizens of the evils of the ciiy. Thirty years ago, the proposal 
of an important organization, which should devote itself entirely to the class 
of vagrant, homeless, and criminal children in New York, would have 
seemed absurd. There were vile streets, and destitute and abandoned peo- 
ple ; but the city was young and thriving. Wealth and Christian enter- 
prise had centered here ; and the scum of poverty, it was thought, would 
soon be floated off through the thousand channels of livelihood over the 
whole country. No one would have believed, that in less than half a cen- 
tur}', a London, St. Giles, or Spitalfields, would have grown up in New 
York. 

But the schedule of the City Prison, in the year 1852, gave sixteen thou- 
sand criminals ; and of these, four thousand were under twenty-one years 
of age ; and the next year, by the estimate of the police, there were nearly 
Hglit thousand arrests of minors. 

Crime among children h.as become organized as it never was previously 
in this country. The police state, that picking pockets is a profession 
among a certain class of boys. They have their haunts, their 'flash' lan- 
guage, their ' decoys,' and ' coverers,' as they are called, or persons who will 
entice others where they can be plundered, and protect the thieves, if they 
are caught. There is another class of young lads, known as ' feelers,' who are 
employed by older rogues to ascertain the best places for committing their 
depred.ations. Cotton picking, on the wharves ; iron stealing, in dry docks ; 
'smashing baggage,' under pretense of carrying it; and 'book bluffing,' 



OF AMERICANS. 585 

a kind of a mock book-selling, are all means of a livelihood for ilialionest, 
j)oor boys of Xcvv York. 

Of the young girls in the city, driven to dishonest means of living, it is 
most sad to apeak. Privation, crime, and old debasement, in the pure and 
sunny yeare of childhood, is a shocking spectacle which we daily witness. 
Many of these stroet-childron are not engaged in dishonest business. There 
are thousands of German children, whose sole occupation is picking rags 
and bones in the street to sell. Others sell fruit, or sweep the streets, for a 
living. And although their employment is honest, the roving vagabond 
life of such children, exposes them to every temptation, and leads to the 
worst habits. Among the little traders of the city, the news-boys rank 
among the shrewdest and sharpest of all. This class numbers several hun- 
dred boys, of different ages, who live entirely by the sale of papers. Be- 
fore this Association had provided a lodging room for them, they slept in 
bo-xcs, printing-house alleys, and wherever they could find a shelter." 

In making his first appeal to the public, in behalf of these different 
classes of poor children, Mr. Brace remarked : " These boys and girls, it 
should be remembered, will soon form the great lower class of our city. 
They will influence elections — they may shape the policy of New York — 
they will assnredly, if unreclaimed, poison society all around them. They 
will help to form the great multitude of robbers, thieves, and vagrants, who 
are now such a burden on the law respecting community." To prevent or 
remove this great moral evil, the Children's Aid Society have sought to 
promote the education, the emphijmeiif, and permanent change of character of 
the children of the poor. A few extracts from the Keports of the Tcacliera 
in the Industrial Schools, will show how much has been accomplished in 
this department of labor, which has enlisted the sympathy of all who are 
able to appreciate the sad fate of these poor girls, so exposed to all the 
temptations of a large city. 

One of these schools is intended for German girls. " These, from igno- 
rance of our language, poverty of parents, or indifference to its necessit_v, are 
unable, or unwilling, to attend the public schools. A good dinner is pro- 
vided them, with meat three times a week, which a certain number of the 
older girls assist the matron in preparing. It is affecting to learn of instances 
where hungr}' little ones have asked permission to take home a portion of 
their dinner to a sick parent, or a little brother or sister. They are taught 
to do general housework, to wash .and iron such articles as are used in the 
school, and to keep the house in order. In the afternoons, they are tau:j;lit 
to sew upon garments, which they earn as rewards for good behavior. Each 
child is required to take a thorough bath once a week. The principal, 
Miss Reed, is assisted by sixty volunteer teachers, ladies of the city. Most 
of these receive one child on Saturday at their own homes, to teacli soniu 
nicer kind of work, and awaken her religious feelings tlirough personal in- 
tercourse." 

" Here, woman may find her true mission; and tlie individual inlluence 
thu.3 exerted, is soon ajiparent in the liomcs of these children. Tlje hearts 
of those noble women are often cheered by finding the most; wretched 
hovels assuming an appearance of order and cnmparative cleanliness. 
Coarse, rough men will gallier with delight around their little ones, to 



586 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

listen to the sweet pongs learned at school, and to admire the neat gar- 
ments — the fruit of their own industr\-. The uncouth, rough manners of 
these vagrant children, under such influences, become subdued. They learn 
that there is a higher pleasure in store for them, than ' filling their baskets 
with refuse, from the rich man's table,' or idly basking in the warm sunshine 
on his door-steps. " 

These Industrial Schools supply a place which no other schools have 
done— forming a connecting link between the lowest poor and the rich, and 
bringing a personal influence to bear on the chihlren of poverty and crime. 
A few incidents will show that these self-denying efforts have had a reflex 
influence, and yielded a rich reward to those engaged in the good work. 

One visitor says : " We started out, a wintery afternoon, to see some of 
our scholars, in the Fourth Ward. We enter a narrow door-way, wind 
through a dark passage, and are at the door of a filthy, close room. We 
are in search of a German rag-picker, who has a child in the school. There 
is one window, a small stove, and two or three chairs. The little girl looks 
neat and health}'. ' I pick rags,' says the mother, ' and I cannot send her to 
the public school ; — it is a great help to me, that you can teach her. I am 
away from home all day, and if she did not go there, she would have to be 
in the streets all day.' 

Here, beyond, is an old house. We climb the shaking stairs, up to the 
attic, a front room, with one window in the roof Very chill and bare, 
but floor well swept. A little hump-backed child, reading very busily, on 
the floor, and another scrubbing on the other side. The mother is Irish. 
We asked about the little, deformed child. ' Och ! she is such a swate one ! 
She always larned very quick, since her accident, and I am verj- thankful 
to the ladies for what they're teaching her — God bless them ! Shure, an' 
its niver won of the schools I could sind 'em to. 1 had no clo's or shoes 
for 'em, — an' its the truth, I'm just living an' no more.' 

Another home of poverty, dark, danii"), and chill. The mother, an Eng- 
lish woman ; her child had gone to school barefooted, and we found that 
she had been sent, in the cold nights, to the brothels, with fruits to sell. ' I 
know,' she said, it is wrong — she ought to have as good a chance as other 
people's children. But I'm so jwor ! I haven't paid a month's rent ; and I 
was sick three weeks. I know the city, and I would rather have her in 
the grave than brought down to those cellars. But what can I do ? ' 

The society will find a place for the little girl in the country, if she 
wishes. In the meantime, we engage her to keep the child at school. Our 
little guide shows us another home of one of our scholars — a prostitute's 
cellar. An elder sister comes to the door, and with a shame-faced look, 
]iromises that she shall come to school every day. We tell her the general 
object of the society, and of the good, kind home which can be found for her 
.si.ster in the country. She seems glad, and her face, which must have been 
pretty once, lights up ; perhaps at the thought, for her sister, of what she 
shall never more have — a pure home. Within the room, two or three 
Bailors, sitting at their bottles, seemed to understand what wo are doing. 
One of them says, very respectfully, 'Yes, that's it ! Git the little girl out 
of this ! It aint no place for her.' " 

We give one more incident Mr. Brace has recorded of the good already 



OF AMERICANS. 587 

accomplished by the Industrial Schools. "I wns going down Ninth street, 
on tlie east side, lately, when I met a little girl, very poor, but with such a 
sweet, sad exjire.ssion, that I involunt.irily stopped and spoUe to her. She 
answered my questions verj' clearl_v, but tlie heavy, sad look never left her 
eyes for a moment. She had no father or mother — took care of the chil- 
dren herself — sewed on check-shirts and made a living for them. And yet 
the child was only thirteen years of age! I went to the low, damp hase- 
racnt, which she calls her home. She lives there with the throe little ones, 
and the elder sick brother, who sometimes picks up a trilie to aid in their 
support. She had been washing for the family. She almost thought she 
might take in washing now; and the little ones, willi their knees to their 
months, crouched up before the stove, looked as if there could not be a 
doubt of sister's doing anything she tried. ' Well, Annie, how do you 
make a living now?' 'I sews on check-shirts, sir, and flannel shirts; I 
gets five cents for the check, and nine cents for the ollicrs ; but tliey wont 
let me have the flannel any more, because I can't deposit two dollais.' ' It 
must be very hard work ?' 'Oh, I don't mind that, sir; but to-day they say 
we'd better all go to the poor-house ; but if I only had candles, I would sit 
up late — till ten or eleven o'clock — and make shirts, and with the help of 
the neighbors, I could keep the little things together.' She liad learned all 
she knew at the Industry School, and she now sends her little .sisters there. 
I went into the little back room, to the one bed, where the whole five slept ; 
the walls damp — only two thin coverlids for warmth. Their fuel had been 
[licked up in the streets ; but ' we never begged ' she said. I left some 
stores for Sunday ; a kind friend has given us money for Christmas presents 
and to-morrow she shall be supplied, if possible, with work, and the two 
dollars to deposit. As I went out, the cold, wintery wind blew fiercely by. 
1 thought of the weary, sad look, which had not changed during the visit. 
I thought of the thousand warm, comfortable homes, this cold night, and 
the happy children, and then of this brave little heart, in the damp cellar — 
the child made old by poverty. God bless thee, little Annie, for a true, 
staunch soul ! May thy day of life not be so weary as thy young morning." 
"The News Boys," like other mercantile professors, have their jobbers and 
their wholesale dealers. These last are older lads, who buy papers by the 
hundred, and give them to smaller boys to sell on commission. "In their 
various business transactions," says Mr. Tracy, the gentleman who Inis 
charge of the News Boys' Lodging-Room, "there is one law which is well 
understood, and often executed upon the delinquent, pud that is pumJdng, 
When a boy has bought papers on a credit, borrowed money, or sold for an- 
other, and fails to meet his account, ho gets an awful punching. AVhen 
Belling for another, if he should happen to 'step out,' with a few shillings, 
a condign punishment of punching awaits him. Sometimes the delinquent 
is followed up to the Bowery or National Theater, where a settlement is 
made in a summary manner. They earn their money easil_v — average 
profits, from three to four shillings a day, and on Sundays, often sixteen 
shillings. The calamity which brings sorrow to a whole community, is 
often a rich harvest to them. On the day when the first news of tlie Arctic 
came, many deposited five dollars, as a day's earnings, in the Savings' Bank 
of the Lodging-llouso. Yet the boys joined in the general feeling. They 



588 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

discussed over the warm stove, after school hours, the conduct of Captaic 
Luce, and the cowardly sailors, as much as any of us. Ooe looked really 
solemn, as he told of a lady in an upper part of the street, who had ruslied 
out after one of his extras, and then shrieked and wept, as she saw a name 
on the list. ' Isn't it awful ? ' said he, ' I do hope he ain't lost, Mr. Tracy I ' 
But although these little ragged merchants can earn money easily, yet wrong 
calculations or bankruptcy have usually left them hungry in the streets, or 
vagrants in the City Prison." 

A few incidents will give our readers some idea of the mode of life and 
character of the New York news-boys. " Mr. Tracy brought to our office," 
says Mr. Brace, "a few days since, a little boy, of twelve or thirteen, with a 
singularly sharp, old face — the type of so many child-faces we continually 
meet, worn and whetted by this incessant rubbing of the street-life in a great 
city. He had been to the Lodging-House, and the niglit before had came 
in with two suspicious looking boys, whose lodging he paid, and Mr. T. 
suspected they were trying to 'pluck' him. 'Where are you from? my 
boy.' ' Patterson, sir.' ' What made you leave your home ?' ' Me mother 
drinks, and me father, he licks me, when he's drunk.' 'How long since 
you run away?' 'Three years, sir; for a while I worked with a farmer, 
on Long Island ; then I went to selling papers at the ferries, and slept in 
boxes, and the old cars at the Erie station. I have sometimes made six 
shillings a day, and I don't know bow I used to spend it. Mr. Tracy has 
got ten shillings of mine now. Well, I see them two boy.s, and they had 
nothing to eat, 'cause they'd been off 'on a lay' (i. e., thieving), in the rail- 
road. They went sixty or seventy miles south, they said, so as to get into 
the country, where it was warm enough to sleep out o' nights ; but they 
couldn't steal long, 'cause the conductor, he sent 'em back. Then I got 'em 
both a supper, and paid their lodging, which was only six pence a piece.' 
'Don't you know that those two boys were trying to sound you? They 
would soon have stripped you of everything.' The boy seemed to feel 
that we were his friends ; but he believed he could not go back to his 
home ; he would stay in New York, and try to live on his own hook. 

James was one of the most honorable of our little news-boys. He had a 
handsome face, rich brown hair, a large, dark eye, and very winning, frank 
expression. He became tired of his wandering life, and Mr. Tracy brought 
bim to the office to get a place in the country. He talked very openly ; 
said he had enough of New York, and wanted to be a farmer. ' Have you 
no home, James ?' ' No, I havn't.' ' Where are your fatlier and mother ? ' 
'Ilavn't got no father and mother,' and the large tears forced themselves 
tlirough the child's eyes, and ran down his cheeks. AVe did not question 
liim more ; Mr. T. knew the sad story of this friendless boy — his bitter, 
weary, and lonely childhood, and his yearning for some spot, which he could 
call his home. There was a rough, hearty old f;irmer in tlie office, at the 
time, who liked the boy, and took him. We give his first letter from his 
new home : 

' Mij dear friends : I am much indebted for your kindness to mo. I think 
I am one of the most fortunate of your boys. I had not been here long, 
when I had a great many presents in clothing — all new from tlie store. I 
have plenty to eat, and live like one of the family — shall stay till I am 



OF AMERICANS. 5S9 

eiglitoen, tlien Mr. V is going to give me a trade. When I came here, 

I dill not linow how to work — now, I can work a little, and I mean to do 
all I am able. I like the country — thought I would not like it all, but now 
I see the difference : instead of running about selling papers, and living in 
the midst of wickedness, I am in the quiet, pleasant country. I would give 
my advice to any boy that sells papers, or any other boy running about the 
streets of New York, to go to the Children's Aid Society, and Mr. Brace 
will find a place for them to go into the country. Give my best respects to 

the Trustees. When you write, direct care of Mr. V C , N. J. 

Yours truly, James.' " 

An amusing scene occurred at the Lodging-Room, on tlie occasion of the 
first opening of their bank, which the news-boys had voted to keep closed an 
entire month. Mr. Tracy was expecting some friends, and hoped that they 
might induce the boys to deposit something in the six-penny bank. They 
grew impatient, and filled up the time in all manner of shiirii-shooting. 

" I move that the boy as has most tin in the bank, shall give us a treat," 
said one little fellow, mounted on a desk — (immense applause.) 

"I move, coffee and cakes !" 

" I go in for that." 

"Half past seven ; Mr. Tracy, open ses,ame !" 

" I move that the bank be opened ! " 

" How much have you got in — sixpence ? " 

" Boys, be seated ! " exclaims Mr. Tracy. 

Older boys to smaller — "You keep order, there." 

"Now," says Mr. Tracy, "I will call the numbers, and I propose that 
Mike counts the money." 

" No, no, sir ! " arose in a shout ; " let every boy finger his own money." 

Mr. Triicy proceeded to call the numbers. "No. 1?" — "Absent; getting 
dinner." 

" No. 2 ? " "Here I be, sir." 

"No. 3?" "Gone, dead." 

"No. 4?" "At his country seat, gettin' his winter lodgin'." (House of 
Refuge.) 

" No. 5? " " Gone to heaven ! " 

"No. 6?" "My eyes! — what a stock of pennies Barney has ! Count 
it — hurry up — two pounds two shillings ! " "I make a move," says Barney, 
(having got his own money), "that now the bank be closed." 

" No. 7? " " Got a check for poor house ? " 

"No. 8?" "Gone to sleep. Go ahead." 

"No. 9?'" " Put on your shirt, Paddy, and get your money ! " 

This kind of running fire was kept up till the clo.se, when it was found 
that some h.ad as high as ten or eleven dollars in the bank, and the whole 
amount of their savings was sixty-nine dollars. Great excitement prevailed, 
when one boy proposed to close their bank for another month. The uproar 
increased, as if the loudest lungs would carry it. The superintendent, Mr. 
Tracy, quieted them, and said, " Boys, you know that this is your afl'air; I 
shall do as j'ou decide ; but you had bettor vote, and not make all this noiso 
about it." The result was a tie. 



590 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Barney, one of the smartest, jumped upon a bench, and made a speech in 
Etump-orator stj-le. lie called upon them to come up to their duty, like 
men and citizens of a groat republic. He denounced the other party. 
" What right have those coves to vote ? They never had nothing in the 
bank, feller citizens ! Tliey haint got their papers !" etc., etc. 

Mr. Tracy proposed that the house divide. As arguments would not do, 
the big boys tried to pull the small ones over to their side. At length, it 
was decided that those who had never put anything in, should not vote, 
and the bank was closed till the first of December. 

All were pleased with the mysterious influence of the bank, when they 
assembled, after driving sharp bargains at the different clothing establish- 
ments. Some had overcoats, for which they paid from four to six dollars ; 
others jaunty caps, others pants, good flannel shirts, and- warm vests. On 
the whole, the investments were judicious, and the society rejoiced at these 
first steps toward respectability, for six months previous, a flannel shirt of 
three months' wear, unchanged, had been the principal garment of the 
corps. 

The effort to provide honest employment in the city for poor children, is 
the only branch of the society's labors that has not proved successful. In 
the Fourth Ward, a class of girls was formed to bind shoes. This, for a 
while, seemed to go on very well. In addition to binding, several thousand 
pairs of shoes were pegged by the children. But suddenly a machine was 
invented to do the work faster and cheaper. Then (he making of paper 
bags, with a similar result. Then came the vearing of cane-chair bottoms. 
But when the girls found that they earned more in the streets, as rag- 
pickers, the thing had to be dropped. That business man who would give 
employment to these young girls, would do more to save wretched young 
creatures from prostitution, than philanthropists or jM-eachers, thus far, have 
been able to do. 

A sketch of one of these poor girls, will show how greatly honest employ- 
ment is needed. Mr. Brace was sent for, by the matron of the Toombs, to 
visit a young German girl, of fourteen years, committed for vagrancy. We 
give the details in his own graphic language. " On entering those soiled and 
gloomy Egyptian archways, I could but associate the low columns and lotus 
capitals with the sombre and miserable history of the place. After a short 
■waiting, the girl was brought in. She had a slight figure, and a face intelli- 
gent and old for her years. The story she told with a wonderful eloquence, 
which thrilled to our hearts. It seemed then like the first articulate voice 
from the great poor class of our city. It may jar our refined sensibilities, 
but we ought to hear it. 

Her eye had a hard look, at first, but softened when I addressed her in 
tho German language. 'How long have you been in the Toombs, and why 
are you here ?' 

' I will tell you, sir ; I have been here two days. I was working out. I 
had to get up early and go to bed late, and I never had any rest. The lady 
worked me always, and at last, because I could not do everything, she beat 
me like a dog, and I ran away. I could not hear it !' The manner of this 
was wonderfully passionate and eloquent. 

'But I thou<'ht you were arrested for being near a place of bad character.' 



OF AMERICANS. 591 

'I am going to toll you, sir. The next clay I went with my father to get 
my clothes, and the lady would not give them up, and what could we do ? 
My father is a poor old man, who picks rags in the streets, aud he said, I 
don't want you to be a rag-picker. You are uot a child now — people will 
lock at you — you will come to harm. 

And I said. No, father, I will help you. We must do something, now I 
am out of a place. So I picked rags all day, and did not make much ; aud 
at night I was cold and hungry. Toward night a gentleman met me — a 
very fine, well dressed gentleman — American, and he said. Will you go with 
me ? And I said. No ! But when he said, I will give you twenty shillings, 
I told him I would go. The next morning I was taken up bj' the officer.' 

' Poor girl,' said the matron, 'what a sin it was ! Had you forgotten your 
mother?' 

' No, I did remember her then. She had no clothes, and I have no 
shoes, and only this thin dress, and a cold winter coming on. I have had 
to take care of myself ever since I was ten years old, and never had a 
cent given me. It may be a sin, sir [here the tears rolled down her cheeks] ; 
I do not ask you to forgive it. Men cannot forgive, but God will forgive. 
I know about men. The rich do such things, and worse, and no one says 
anything against them. But I, sir, I am pock [this she said with a tone 
which struck the very heart-strings] . Many is the day I have gone hun- 
gry from morning till night, because I did not dare spend a cent or two — the 
onlv ones I had. Oh, I have sometimes wished to die. Why does not 
God kill me?' 

She was choked by her sobs, and when she became calm, and was told of 
our plan of finding her a good home, where she could make an honest 
living, she seemed mistrustful. ' I will tell you, Meinne Uerrn, I know meni 
and I do not believe any one — I have been cheated so often. I am not a 
diild : in fourteen years, I have lived as long as people twice as old !' 

' But you do not wish to stay in pri.sou ? ' 

' God, no ! 0, there is such a weight on my heart here ! Why was 
I ever born. I have such l;ummerniss (woes) here, — [she pressed her hands 
to her heart] — I am poor ! ' 

We talked with the matron. She had often seen children in the Toomba 
of nine or ten years, as old as young women, but this was a remarkable 
"iri. It was, undoubtedly, her first offense. We obtained her release, and 
she consented to leave the city. But before we took her to our office, wo 
went to her cabin, that she might first see her parents. 

She asked in broken English of us, ' Don't you think, better for poor girla 
to die than live ? ' 

Mr. G said something kindly to her about a good God. 

She shook her head ; ' No ; no good God ! Why much sufl'er, if good 
God?' 

After much trouble, we reached the house — or the den — of the rag- 
picker. The parents were very grateful that she was to start the next morn- 
ing for a country home, where, perhaps, they will finally join her. For my- 
self, the evening shadow iieeraed more somber, and the cheerful home-lighta 
less cheerful, as I walked home, thinking of such a history." 

In the European Reformatory Institutions, this plan is adopte 1 on a very 



592 ADVENTURES AND ACUIEVEMEXTS 

limited scale, as emigration to distant countries is so burdensome in expense. 
" Norway and Sweden," says Mr. Brace, " are the only countries that have 
carried out the system of placing destitute and criminal youth in families, 
and with the same happy result as the Children's Aid Society." How 
trifling is the expense incurred by sending these children to the country, 
compared with the expense and punishment of crime in the city. Even a 
child cannot be arrested, held in the Toombs, tried, and afterward confined 
for a year, at less than one hundred and seventy-five or two hundred dol- 
lars. Eight boys, now in the House of Refuge, from a vile locality, where 
many of their comrades have since been saved, will cost the city almost 
double the whole expense of the News Boys' Lodging-Room, without reck- 
oning the future loss and damage they will inevitably occasion to property, 
and expense of future trials and punishment. As a mere matter of econoraj-, 
such an Association in New York, should receive tenfold more liberal sup- 
port than has yet been extended to the Children's Aid Society. 

Let ns now follow some of these little vagrants to their new homes. Mr. 
Van Meter, who has for years been connected with Five Points' Mission, has 
been employed to take children thence to their new homes. He has also 
been emploj^ed by Mr. Brace, before Mr. Tracy could be spared from the 
News Boys' Lodging- House. The warm hearts of these devoted laborers, 
are constantly overflowing with love and sympathy for the little ones com- 
mitted to their charge. Their correspondence is replete with interest, and 
few incidents of travel have such power to enlist our feelings, as those of the 
city youth who, for the first time, begins to appreciate the sentiment of 

Cowper, 

"God made the country, but man made the town." 

These children are not sent away until they have spent some time in the 
institution, under the management of kind teachers, who seek to prepare 
them for their new homes. Mr. Van Meter thus describes, in a letter, one of 
these tours to the West, which is full of interest : 

" I embrace the first opportunity of reporting, through you, to the Ladies" 
Mission, the result of my present tour. As we were about starting, several 
children arrived from the Children's Aid Society, some from the News 
Boys' Lodging-Room, and when we reached Jersey City, a beautiful 
little lame girl, from the Home of the Friendless, was placed under my 
care. As the cry, ' all aboard,' was heard, little Mary was forever freed from 
the cruel tyranny of the woman who had driven her forth to beg, since she was 
five years old. On we went — .some .singing, others crying. It was a sleep- 
less-night to me. Though we had clothed them at the Mission, .as well as 
our exhausted wardrobe would permit, tliey often became very cold. The 
snow-storm in the mountains was severe. Toward morning, a pipe burst, 
and we were frozen up. As the storm subsided, I went to a farm-house, 
and begged a pail of milk for the children. 

As we were hastening on, trying to redeem the time lost, little Paddy was 
sitting by a very interesting, young lady, who seemed to treat him with great 
tenderness. At length, Paddy leaned on her lap, talked and smiled, and 
she asked him about his brothers and sisters. When she learned that he 
was homeless and friendless, though but six years old, she took him in her 
arms, and kissed him, and bathed his face with her tears. 



OF AMEIIICAKS. 593 

Turning to her fatlicr, she said, 'Now, father, wo never liad a brother. 
There are none but Mary and I; you have enough to live on ; — take little 
Paddy ; he shiill be no trouble to mother ; we will teach him, and when ha 
is old enough, you can make a doctor of him.' 

Soon the point was settled, lie takes Paddy as a son, and I have antlior- 
ized him to change his name. This good home cheered up the children, 
and often they said, 'I am glad for Paddy. Will you get as good homes 
for us ? ' 

When wo arrived iu Cleveland, two large omnibuses wore placed at my 
disposal. Off we went to the Angler House, and were welcomed the more 
cordially because there were so many of us. Fires were immediately made; 
those who were sick from the shaking of the cars, were put to bed, and the 
rest prepared for breakfast. The generous landlord refused any compensa- 
tion. His only charge was, 'come again.' 

On the Sabbath, I plead for the mission in three churches. The result of 
that day humbled me in the dust. the immortal kindness of God 1 When 

I saw Ellen K at the Home for the Friendless, and learned that nobody 

■would have her, because she was so lame, my sympathy was awakened, and 
I said in my heart, she shall not go to the alms-house. At the close of my 
address, in the Euclid street Church, I alluded to Ellen. Six wealthy Ladies 
consulted together, and then said, ' We have determined to take Ellen and 
educate her, sharing the expense.' 

You remember Kate C , the beautiful little girl who, for many days, 

wandered through the cit}-, seeking a home, .ind at night, sad and weary, 
would go to the Toombs to sleep ! Well, sir, a good, praying man and wife, 
whose children are gone, said, ' She shall be to us a daughter.' The dear 
little one wept aloud for joy. You remember one from the Children's Aid 
Society, who was so disfigured that no one would let her come near their 
children. After looking at her, a mother in Israel said, 'This one needs 
pvmpathy more than any of the others ; /will take her.' Noble, generous 
woman ! 

' Scotchy,' being only five or six years old, unusually beautiful and smart, 
it was not strange th.at many a wealthy, but childless, home was ofl'ered 
him. As we were leaving the Angler House, a lady who had recently lost 
her only son, came and said, ' I must have John, the youngest of the news- 
boys. ' 

After my arrival in Peoria, I took Mary Jane Small to Judge P . He 

has one of the most truly noble families in the land. The judge took the 
little one on his knee, pressed her to his he.art, and said to his wife, 'The 
Lord has given us enough, let us take her.' Mary, with all the innocent 
fulness of her little heart, said, ' Pm so glad!' One of the daughters 
turned to me and said, ' We have a little sister now I ' They have changed 
her name, clothed her beautifully, and sent back her own wardrobe for the 
use of the mission. She is addressed by the children as sister, .and calls 
the judge and his wife, father and mother. When the box of clothes ar- 
rives, please send them to the Children's Aid Society, for the use of her six 
sisters. She wants them all to come to this good country. 

William Wright is taken by a pious banker, who says that his most ar- 
dent desire is to see him a Christian, that he may fit him for the ministry. 



594 ADVENTUrLES AXD ACHIEVEMEXTS 

Jane, the little Irish girl, who learned the Sermon on the Monut, has, in 
n'ne weeks from her arrival in America, been adopted as a daiighter bj- one 
of the most pious and wealthy lawyers in this country. Just thiuk of it ! 
Five weeks ago, she and her mother and little sister wandered about the 
Five Points without a shelter. Jaue's mother has now a good home near 
her daughter, and they are all so happy." 

We make a few extracts from the narrative of a similar trip to the West, 
in the autumn of 1855. It will interest the reader to see how these poor 
children were affected by the beautiful scenery of the country, in contract 
with their wretched surroundings at the Five Points. It reminds one of '.ho 
exclamations of Casper Hauser, when he first looked upon this bea';tiful 
world, after spending all his childhood in a dark dungeon. 

"I hired a band-wagon," says Mr. Van Meter, "put in the children, and 
went four miles, to Milan. The road was fine, the forests beautiful ; yards 
and gardens full of beautiful flowers, and the orchards bending under the 
weight of apples, pears, and other fruit. The children were quite crazed 
with the scene — they laughed, and sung, and hallooed ; all talked at once, 
each trying to call the attention of the others. 

One was enraptured to think she was where oranges grew. ' 0, look at 
the oranges — how large, how many ! Would they not bring a shilling in 
New York?' She was looking into a garden of ripe squashes. 

' 0, aint you glad you come ? Why, M-r. Van Meter, you did not tell us 
as much as this, Monday night,' said one of the boys. 

' 0, just stop a minute, and let me get some flowers,' said Delia. 

' I do wish father and mother and the baby were here,' said little Lizzie. 
Bless her little kind heart. How I love that child I 

I defy any New York reporter to give anything like a correct sketch of 
the scene, opinions, and exclamations. Perhaps you conclude that they 
were rudely boisterous, and I ought to have made them quiet. No, sir. 
Do not birds sing as loud as they can, when such a glorious morning opens 
upon them ? And shall the poor little ones, caged all their lives at the 
Five Points, give no expression of joy ? Why, their little hearts would 
burst, if I wore to make them hold their tongues. No, shout, my dear little 
ones, halloo — sing to the top of your voice — anything you please. I de- 
clare, I could not avoid entering into the same spirit. 

Well, we drove right to the church, which was soon full, and I humbly 
trust that the scenes of the past hour did not unfit me for the duties of the 
present. I talked and the people cried. At the close, the ladies went to 
work in earnest. Mr. S. F. Taylor, mayor of the city, was present with his 
wife. 

Their eyes were fixed on John Taff. 'Oh,' exclaimed Mrs. T., 'how 
much he looks like our dear boy, who was drowned a few weeks ago ! Let 
us take him to fill the place of our son.' 

The people gathered round, and said, ' what a blessing to this poor boy, 
to get such a home ! ' 

One woman said, ' That's just what I always said : the Lord manages 
everything right. Don't you see, there was no place for this little one, so 
the Lord took their only son to heaven to make room for little Johnny.' 

We all cried. It does seem to me that the Lord has reserved the best 



OF AMEIUCANS. 595 

places for our poor children of the Five roiiils. The next morning at 
seven o'clock, not leas than one hundred and fifty persons met ns, bringing 
clothing, bedding, etc., which I have shipped to the mission. Tliu children 
have all found the best homes. But the morning of parting was one of 
trial. They seemed to realize that the}- were in a land of strangers, and 
therefore clung to me. Little Lizzie kept her arms round my neck. M.ig- 
gie leaned her head on my breast, and for the first time cried aloud. Tim 
boys struggled manfullj', but broke down. O, my dear brother, it tried my 
heart, as it has never been tried before ! 1 tried to comfort them, and then 
kneeled down and commended each one separately to God." 

When we reflect upon the fearful amount of crime in our large cities — the 
garroting, the robbery, the theft — who can over-estimate the importance of 
educating the poor street child, and providing Christian homes for the 
young vagrant lad, and the houseless girl, who, if unreclaimed, will in a 
a few years become a pest to society. Throughout the length and breadth 
of our Great AVest, how many homes might be found for these friendless 
ones ! Although much has been done by tlie Children's Aid Society, and 
the various city missions, yet it is estimated that there are still ten thousand 
destitute children in the City of New Vork, of whom not more than one 
quarter are provided with homes. 

The following statistics for the past year will .sliow the eflbrts thai have 
been made by benevolent societies for their instruction : 

Schools of Charity. — School on Randall's Island, 654 pupils ; Colored 
Orphan Asylum, 295; Orphans' Home, 57; Orphan Asy'.um, 184 ; Half 
Orphan [about], 190; Home of Friendless, 300; Five Points, 315; Ladies' 
Home Mission, Five Points, 313; House of Refuge, 858; Juvenile Asylum, 
569 ; Schools of Children's Aid Society, 1,176; Wilson School, 490; Home 
of Industry (West 16th Street), 200; other Industrial Schools, 130. Total, 
5,831. 

Sending children to the country, has not been attempted anywhere on so 
large a scale as by the Children's Aid Society. Since its formation, two 
thousand seven hundred and forty-three children have been provided with 
homes and employment. The n.arrative of the expeditions of Mr. C. C. 
Tracy, to the West with these children, also abound with thrilling incidents. 
We have only room for a few of those incidents of travel. The first ex- 
tract is from a letter of Mr. Tracy, dated at the Xews Boys' Lodging- 
House, November 29, 1856: 

"As you are aware, I started with my family of nearly fifty unprotected 
ones, on the eighteenth inst., taking pa.ssage to Albany in the splendid 
steamer New World. 1 had sent word to Kalamazoo, Mich., of our intended 
uppearance there, and believing that would be the most favorable place to 
accomplish the object in view, I wa.s not desirotis to part with any of my 
children by the way. At Detroit, however, 1 was induced by their own per- 
suasions, as well as by very favorable applications, to leave three of our 
company. The others all went off 'like hot cakes' in Kalamazoo. 

Thus, in less than one week from being homeless, street-wandering chil- 
dren, in the City of Xev/ York, with a life of vice and wretchedness before 
them, each one of that whole company was adopted into .some well-to-do, 
respectable family, in one of the 7nost iiro.-i]ieroiis States in the I'nion. 
38 



596 ADVENTURES AMD ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

Had you the space, I could recount for your gratification, and that of your 
readers, many highly interesting incidents connected with our travel. 'J'lio 
children showed the most extravagant delight at the way-side scenery. 
Many of them looked upon trees, broad fields, running brooks, and high 
mountains, for the first time in their lives. One little German boy, on 
coming in sight of Lake Ontario, was evidently struck with the most in- 
tense wonder and amazement. After shading his eyes, while he gazed upon 
the wide expanse of water for several minute.s, he turned to me, saying, 

'What world is this we're coming to now, Mr. Tracy ? What is all that, 
there?' 

I told hira we were in Canada, and that was Lake Ontario. 

' What, a lake ?— all that ! Why, it looks like the ocean, don't it ? 

At Detroit, a genileman from a few miles back in the country, named 
Coyle, looked with some interest upon one of the boys, named John Smith, 
Baying to him in the course of conversation, that if he was to take a boy, he 
should make him change his name and take his. John took quite a liking 
to Mr. Coyle, and when he left to transact some business about town, asked 
to go with him. During the walk, some friends whom Mr. Coyle met, 
asked the boy his name ; 'John Coyle, sir,' was the prompt reply. Mr. 
Coyle looked at him sharply, but pleased with the shrewdness manifested, 
immediately rejoined, ' John Coyle it shall be, then." They came back at 
once to me, and I soon furnished Mr. Coyle with the means of fulfilling his 
promise. 

We had a standard bearer (having been fmnished by some kind friends 
with an American flag, before we started), in the person of a clever little 
black boy, who was included in the number. He enjoyed his importance 
much, and his appearance, marshaling the little host, everywhere attracted 
attention." 

An account of another expedition, we extract from a city newspaper : " It 
will be recollected, that two or three weeks ago, Mr. Tracy, Agent of the 
Children's Aid Society, started on another of his western trips, with a car- 
load of homeless children. He returned a few days ago, and gave a ver 
interesting description of his journey. They left the city on December 23-, 
in the Albany train. The day was excessively cold, but the car devoted to 
the use of Mr. Tracy and his juvenile companions was well warmed, and 
the children were well clothed. 

The scene on their leaving was a deeply interesting one ; but the sadncsa 
on the faces of the little group was mingled with joy, as they seemed to 
look forward to the bro.ad future before them, in which they saw the prom- 
ise of their past homeless condition changed for brightness and prosperity. 
Kind friends spoke encouragingly to them on their way; and during the 
whole route, kind friends arose up all around them, to warm the forlorn 
hearts of the little strangers, giving them an ever-smiling welcome, and ivs- 
Kurance of deep-felt interest. At Niagara, having a few hours to spare the 
wandering group, tlie most of whom, probably, had never seen anything 
beyond the brick-and- mortar city, were fe.asted with the sight of this majes- 
tic ever-pouring flood of w.ater. Their astonishment aiul joy amounted to 
ecstacy. In fact, the scenery during the whole journey, although a snowy 
landscape, excited the most intense and noisy interest in them all. 



OF AMKRICAXS. 597 

On Friday, the 26ili, at five A. M., the party an-ived at Kalamazoo, their 
destination, and before Saturday evening Mr. Tracy had disposed, in the 
happiest manner, of all but ten of the children, who were bound still far- 
ther. Accordingly, on Monday morning, the ten little boys were packed 
into the comfortable sleigh, where they enjoyed a twenty-miles' ride with 
Mr. Tracy, over the prairie to a village called Prairie Ronde. A gentleman 
from Three-Rivers, III., who happened to be stopping at the tavern there, 
c.Kpressed great interest in the little j'arty, especially in one bright-eyed, 
pleasant- faced chai?, of eight years, — little Danny. 

This gentleman, a man of wealth, and of much consideration out West, 
was awaiting the stage, to return to his distant home, and as the stage drove 
up, and he was about to bid good-by, little Danny bounded up to him, throw 
his arms round his knees, and exclaimed, '0, Mister, please take me home 
with yon ! — 0, won't you ? — I want to go home with you so much.' 

The gentleman, one of the finest and most stalwart specimens of western 
giants, looked down for a moment upon the little, pale, pleading orphan 
boy, wdio still clung tenaciously to his knees. The big tears gathered slowly 
in his eyes, but brushing them off hastily with his hand, he exclaimed in a 
hearty tone, 

'Come then, Danny, yon shall go home with me. I have two girls, but 
liO boy — }'0U are a good little follow, and yon shall be my sou !' 

.\nd the great, burly, but tender-hearted, man brushed another tear from 
liis eye. The emotion seemed contagious; — even the hearty stage-driver 
was affected, but he cracked his whip lustily to conceal his soft-heartediiess, 
as Danny was lifted into the stage by his new friend, and in a moment more 
the little Five Pointer, whose infancy had been passed in such a hard school 
(if want and suffering, was rattling on toward a home of love and plenty. 

Another traveler, on his way to his home, chancing to stop at the tavern 
with no previous thought of adopting a boy, was so much taken with a 
round-faced, chubby little fellow, of ten, an orphan — the Willie of the 
company — that he secured him on the spot. Ho is a wealth}', kind-hearted 
farmer, and one calculated to bring up the boy in a way to insure his be- 
coming a valuable member of society. 

Little Freddy, the youngling of the flock, only six years old, whose only 
parent, his mother, was lying at the point of death in Bellevue Hospital, 
when he left with the rest, was adopted by a farmer and his wife, who, ex- 
pecting the company, had come some thirty miles to procure a nice little 

boy- 
Mr. Tracy saw a large number of the children during his stay, whom, on 
former occasions, he had {)rovided with w'estern homes. They were all 
very happy ; and to his question, 'Would tliey return to New York?' a 
universal, '0, no, sir!' was the reply." 

Occasionally a child is returned. People are not always so forbearing or 
unselfish as they should be, and now and then the old roving passion comes 

over the child. A family in S sent back a bright little fellow. He had 

not behaved badly, but was not quite so immaculate as they had hoped. 
The result of his return to th.at miserable hovel might have been expected — 
he was soon taken up by the police as a vagrant, and sent to the Essex 
Market Prison. Mr. Brace found the familv in great distress — there were 



59S ADVENTUCES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

eight other children, coUl and hungry. One of them said, " Erothcr had 
gone to the jjrison," crying hard ; " father was out picliing rags ; — he would 
like to go to school, but there wasn't none near. A jintleman did take him 
once to Sunday School, and he liked it." Whoever would aid the poor, 
must have some tinge of the patience and long-suffering our groat Benefactor 
has shown toward us. 

We will close this article with an exhibition of kiuduefs among the lowly, 
presenting a happy contrast to the above. "One of our visitors," says Mr. 
Brace, " found a little boy under a cart, gnawing a bone, which he had 
picked up for his breakfast. lie had a good natured little face, and fine 
dark eye. Mr. S felt a sympathy for him, and asked, 

' Where do you live, my boy ? ' 

' Don't live noiohere!' [0, how often this answer is given]. He said bis 
mother had left him, and lived all about, doin' washin' ; but a woman in 
Thirteenth street had taken him in,, and he slept in one corner of her room. 

Mr. S. went with him to the jilace, and found that this kind woman was 
very poor — bare room, andsoarcolj' enough to live herself, yet she had taken 
in this wretched little creature. ' She was the poorest creature in Now 
York,' she said, 'but some how, everything that was poor always came to 
her, and while God gave her anything, she meant to share it with others.' " 

" Ye who are happy, whose lives have been under sunshine and gentle in- 
fluences ; yc who gather in cheerful home circles, think of the friendless chil- 
dren in our great cities ! Hear the eloquent pleading of C. T. Brace in 
their behalf, and do not withhold your aid from tho noble work in which 
he is engaged. But few have such eloquent expression as the poor little 
prisoner at the Toombs, but all inarticulately feel. There are Gad histories 
beneath this gay world — lives, over which is the very shadow of death. 
God be thanked, there is a heart to feel for them all, where every pang and 
groan will find sympathy. The day is short for us all ; but for some, it will 
be a pleasant thought when we come to lay down our heads, at last, that we 
have eased a few aching hearts, and brought peace and joy to the dark livef 
of some whom men had forgotten, or cast out." Leila Lee. 

And now, one cheering word to yon, whom God hath richly blessed, 
And opened wide your generous hearts to succor the distressed : 
3fe sow the seed witli trembling hope — ye water it with teai-s, — 
But ye shall gather precious fruit, to chide your anxious feara. 
As pl.-ints their fragrant buds unfold, when taken fiom the shade. 
And flowers in Spring's warm sunlight ; — when gentle breezes pla\ i:d, 
Have yielded up a sweet perfume, to bless our fostering care — 
So may that youthful soul expand in more congenial air. 
Your Christian home affords it now — an atmosphere of love — 
And, while you sow the precious seed, you lift your heart above : 
" Help, Lord, to take this little one and bring it up for thee." 
Toil on ! you soon will hear the words, when ye your Saviour see, 
"As vc have done to one of these so have ye done to me." — L. L. 




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AMERICA 



AT 



THE W O R L D'S FAIR, 



HELD IN THE CRTSTAL PALACE, LONDON, IN 1851, TOGETHER WITH A DESCRIPTION OF 
THK GREAT YACUT RACE, OFF THE ISLE OF WIGHT, IN WHICH THE 

"AMERICA," GAINED A SIGNAL TRIUMPH. 



The Exhibition of the InJustry of All Nations, at Loudon, in 1851, it is 
said, "will ever be referred to as the most stupendous conception of modern 
times." The Crystal Palace, in which it was held, occupied an area of 
eighteen acres. The buildinj; was formally opened on the 1st of May, by 
her majesty Queen Victoria, with suitable and imposing ceremonies. 

An extraordinary space at the eastern end of the palace was assigned for 
the exhibition of articles from the United States. This was sparsely filled, 
compared with the crowded apartments of other countries. While the 
signs indicating each of these were small and neat, that over the receptacle 
for American contributions, was a long piece of planed and painted lumber 
with the golden words "United States of America" in huge jjroportions, 
surmouuted by a gigantic eagle with expanded wings. These peculiarities 
drew forth the ridicule of the English writers, who appeared, for the mo- 
ment, to forget that even these were but properly characteristic contributions 
from a land generous beyond all other lands in wood and gold. 

A few extracts will show the spirit with which Young America was 
greeted by the English press. On the very opening day of the exhibition, 
the London Times thus began with a fusilade : 

"Our 'I'ransatlantic descendants, following out their New World instincts, 
have no idea of being jostled by other nations, or pinched for space, even iu 
the Crystal Palace. While the industries of other countries have been 
Rcrtwing themselves up tight, and getting into the smallest jiccsibia coiii- 
pass, that of the United States invites emigration from France — from our- 
selves — from the rest of Europe generally. Other nations rely upon their 
proficiency in the arts, or in manufactures, or in machinery, for producing 
effect. Not so with America. She is jii-oud of her agricultural imple- 
ments, which Garrett, or Ransom and May would reject us icorthkss ; she is 
proud of her machinery, which would hardly fill one corner of our exhibi- 
tion, and upon the merits of which our civil engineers would not pronounce 
a very flattering opinion ; and she thinks a great deal of her first efforts in 
native marble by an untaught sculptor." 

(599} 



600 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Two \veel;s later, the Times poured in a few more shot: " What idea 
of Jonathan is to be gathered from his 'notions?' and can we detect in the 
offspring the lineaments of its parent's face ? England is not given to boast- 
ing and swagcjering ; [ ? ] she generally understates her strength, and studies 
moderation of language about herself, though she has some excuse for being 
j)roud. Her republican progeny are not so modest, if one may judge from 
the wings of that very aggressive American eagle, with wliich the eastern 
end of the nave is decorated. The king of birds is hovering over a set ci 
'notions,' spread out very sparsely beneath him; and the visitor is some- 
what astonished to find him making so vast a demonstration over a space so 
unoccupied. The American department is the prairie-ground of the e.xhibi- 
tiou ; and our cousins, smart as they are, have failed to till it. They cannot 
yet keep pace with the great strides of the European industries, and even 
the seven league boots, if they had them, would not enable them to do so 
for some generations to come. They are growing, and will be a great com- 
munity by and by. Let them therefore await the future with patience and 
hiimilitij." 

The unwise sensitiveness to these attacks, shown by the wincing of some 
of our countrymen, who could not "bide their time," were "nuts" to the 
Thunderer; so, a little later, he indulges in more amusement of the same 
sort. 

" If the Americans do excite a smile, it is by their j'retensions. When- 
ever they do come out of their own province of rugged utility and enter into 
competition with European elegance, they do certainly make themselves 
ridiculous. Their furniture is grotesque ; their carriages and harness are 
gingerbread ; their carpets are tawdry ; their patchwork quilts surpass even 
the invariable ugliness of this fabric ; their cut-glass is clumsy ; their pianos 
sound of nothing but iron and wood ; their bookbinding is that of a jour- 
neyman working on his own account in an English market-town ; their 
daguerreotypes are the sternest and gloomiest of all daguerreotypes ; their 
printed calicoes are such as our house-maids would not think it respectable 
to wear. Even their ingenuity, great as it is, becomes ridiculous, when it 
attempts competition with Europe. Double pianos, a combination of a 
piano and a violin, a chair with a cigar case in its back, and other mongrel 
constructions, belong to a people that would be centaurs and mermen if 
they could, and are always rebelling against the trammels of unity. . . . 
The Americans have no occasion to fret at the uncouth figure they cut 
beside their neighbors. A nation with a continent in its pocket can afford 
to be lau'died at. After all the American section of the exhibition is the 
fittest possible picture of the geographical part, not merely as a fastidious 
European might describe it, but even as it would strike an American him- 
self in his progress from the Broadway to the Missouri or the Eio 
Grande." 

Other papers followed in an echo of the Times, and the Illustrated News 
thus discoursed upon the " very modest Yankees : " "According to popu- 
lar opinion, as taught by their newspapers, the United States were to carry 
off the chief glories of the ' World's Fair.' Now, as in the United States 
every one reads the newspapers, and many read nothing else, it was just 
natural that the people should fancy they were going ' to licl: old worn out 



OF AMEKICANS. 601 

Europe.' The result has been that the Aiucric;ais were deeply mortified, 
'iiid somewhat angry at the insignilicant pcrlbrniauces of their own niagni- 
tieeiit promises. On hoard an American steamer, in which a friend of ours 
made his passage from New York, in March last, every assemhkige in the 
day, at dinner, breakfast, luncheon, and supper, brought out bold offers 
from the ' State's men ' of bets of many dollars, that their country would 
carry off the greatest number of prizes from all the competitors of the 
World's Fair. And we believe that, until the opening of the exhibition, 
the same confidence prevailed in all American assemblages. Can they 
wonder that we laugh a little, or cau they doubt that this laughing will do 
them good ?" 

It would be a miracle in human nature if tlie American people were 
devoid of the habit of boasting, for they are full of the vigor of youth, with 
a glorious jjast, free institutious, and a whole continent on which to work 
out a magnificent future — if they but will. It is therefore only the logical 
consequence of their condition, for them to feel as if they could surpass all 
other nations in any field of enterprize which they may choose, and it should 
be no cause of complaint if they manifest the frankness to say what they be- 
lieve they can accomplish. One consolation remains, that is, in time they 
may grow as modest as even John Bull himself, until they arrive at that 
point where, like him, they can boast of their modesty without a blush ! 

Before the close of the exhibition the tone of the English papers changed 
very essentially, and their commendation became as strong as had been 
their detraction tow-ard the contributions of our young and progressive 
people. John Bull, self-sufficient as he is, when fairly convinced of his 
errors, acknowledges them with a heartiness that makes full amends for 
the bluntness with which he expresses his hastily-formed opinions. The 
exhibition proved a decided triumph for the Americans. We present a. 
sketch of their successes in an abridgement from the report of Colonel Ben- 
jamin P. Johnston, agent of the State of New York, in which he suras up 
;,hu results of the exhibition, and speaks more particularly upon those 
articles to which awards wore assigned. We mention only the more 
prominent. 

"It should be borne in mind that the exhibitors from this country vvero 
placed in a very different position from any other foreign country. The ex- 
hibition from the United States was made by the exhibitors themselves, 
without aid or assistance, in their preparation, from the government, wan 
made by our citizens themselves, and showed their enterprize, their energy, 
their skill and ingenuity ; and when this was known, it was a matter of 
surprise to foreigners that we exhibited as much as we did. It was designed 
to show, as it did, that in this country "genius, industry and energy find 
no barriers to their career." The number of inventions exhibited which 
were calculated to reduce the cost of production in agriculture, manufactures 
and the mechanic arts, was in the highest degree creditable to us, and elic- 
ited from distinguished sources in Great Britain the admission that to "the 
department of American 'notions'" they owed "the most important contri- 
butions to their industrial system." 

tn the early part of the Exhibition, the U. S. Dejiartnieut was the subject 
of much invidious remark, and our contributions were considered as far be- 



C02 ADVEXTUUES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

liind the times. Located in tlie buildings as we were, adjacent to France, 
Russia and Austria, tliere was indeed a striking difi'erence in tlie appearance 
of the contributions from the different countries. While that from the 
United States was mainly of a character of utility in the Implement and 
Machinery department, and of the productions of the soil, the others con- 
sisted of the most costly articles, wrought with exquisite tiiste, silks, statu- 
ary, diamonds, jewelr}-, etc., which attracted the eye and railed forth the 
warmest encomiums. During the first three weeks, while the admissions 
comprised only the wealthy classes, the United States Department was 
hastily passed over — a glance given, an inquiry made at the implements, a 
remark occasionally, " these may do for a new country, but would not answer 
in England — unless our mechanics have the altering of them, etc.," was the 
principal notice which was given them. In answer to these remarks upon 
our implements — the reply was frequently given that no " English Mechahic" 
would have the privilege of practicing upon our implements, until they 
were tried, and we had the opportunity of showing what our implements 
could perform. It was not a very pleasant position, to be met with remarks 
similar to these, day after day, for several weeks. As the jurors, however, 
began to make their examinations, and as exhibitors and others interested in 
the articles on exhibition were called upon to explain to intelligent and 
practical men, what were the properties claimed for our articles, more inte- 
rest was manifested in our department. 

Machinery. — In this department, as was to have been expected, the 
English display a far more extensive assortment than all the other nations. 
The exhibition shows what perfection has been attained, and the beauty of 
finish and arrangement, is certainly worthy of all praise. Of machinery, of 
really new principles, there did not appear to me to be much in the English 
department. I was informed by a very skillful mechanic from our State, 
who examined the machinery with great minuteness, that very many of the 
most valuahk improvements were taken from American inventions, and the very 
machines were named in which they were to be found. 

A considerable number of Prize Medals were awarded for guns, rifle.s, etc, 
but strange to saj', Colt's celebrated Revolvers, were only favored with an 
Bonorahle Mention, as appears from the returns I have. This is the more 
singular, when it is recollected, that the English press without an excep- 
tion, so far as I am informed, gave great prominence to this most important 
••,nd invaluable improvement of Mr. Colt, which has found great favor in 
England, and his rifles and pistols have been largely ordered for the use of 
the British army. Thej'e was an attempt made during the exhibition, to 
show that Colt was not the inventor of the revolvers, one having been 
found in Paris, I believe, of very ancient date. That may be so, for aught 
I know, but it is not the less true, that so far as giving efl3ciency and prac- 
ticability to the invention, the world is indebted to him, and he is as truly 
and justly entitled to the credit of the invention, as if it had never before 
entered into the mind of another. Honorable Mention was also given to 
W. R. Palmer, fur a Target Rille, and to Robbins and Lawrence for Military 
Rifles. 

Previous to the trial of our plows, a very erroneous idea generally pre- 
vailed among those who visited the Exhibition, as to what they could per- 



OF AMERICANS. COS 

furm. TIu'v were so different from the ETi:;lisli plows, ^'o li^lit in tlinir 
stnioturo, iiiui so much shorter, the impression was very ^jeneral, that they 
wonlil not succeed. The following description of our ])lous, as compared 
with ilie English implements was given during the Exhibition, in the lead- 
ing Agricultural Monthly Magazine published in England. 

After describing the defects of the implements exhibited from the Con- 
tinent, the witer remarks, "this is also particularly noticeable m the Amer- 
ican plows, which, with the exception of the varnish and high finish, remina 
us of the prints in agricultural works intended to represent plows that wore 
used several hundred years ago. They also show us that the Americans must 
have a verj' friable soil to cultivate, or that their tillage operations are ex- 
ecuted in a very imperfect manner." 

It was under all these disadvantages that the trial was had ; but the result 
proved that what had been affirmed by us of our plows was practically de- 
monstrated to be true. There were present at the trial, a large number of 
practical farmers and land proprietors who felt a deep interest in the result ; 
for if the American plows succeeded — their cheapness, as well as lightness 
and diminished draught — were objects of no small moment to the English 
farmer, struggling with exorbitant rents, taxes, and poor rates, as well as with 
the foreign competition induced by Free Trade, which called for ever}- pos- 
sible improvement that would cheapen the production of grain crops. 

The trial ground was a moderately stiif soil, with a light sod, and the 
depth and width of furrow was fixed at six and nine inches. ^Yhon the 
first American plow was brought on to the ground for trial, the interest man- 
ifested was very great. A large number of farm laborers as well as farmers 
were gathered around the plow, and the expressions I heard from many 
were — "that plow won't go in ;" "that plow will break ;" and other remarks 
of a similar character. I had an American with me to hold the plow — but 
the gentleman upon whose land the trial was made, advised that his plow- 
man who was well versed in his work, should hold the first one — and I con- 
sented. The plow was set to the required depth and width, as near as it 
could be done, and the team started. The plowman, unused to the plow, 
pressing his whole weight upon the handles, to keep it in, was desired to let 
the plow take its own course, merely steadying it, and it went through its 
work with great ease, both to the plowman and team. As wc returned to 
the starting point, it was settled that our plow loould do its work. 

We tried several American plows : Starbuck's, of Troy ; Piouty and 
Mear's, of Boston ; Allen's, of New York, and one from Philadelphia. The 
work was well done, the sole of the furrow was as well finished as by any 
plow upon the ground nnd the only objection made by the .Turors, to the 
work of our plows was, that the furrow slice was broken too much. It was 
evident to those familiar with plowing such soil, that this was an advantage 
in favor of our plows, as a stiff soil needed to be broken to prepare it for 
the seed, and if not done by the plow, it would 'cquire much more labor 
with the harrow or cultivator to prepare it; and this was sustained by tho 
judgment of practical farmers on the ground, whose attention was particu-, 
larly called to the work done by our plows, and who admitteil that it could 
be prepared for the seed at much less expense and labor, than when the 
furrow slice was laid over smoothly and unbroken. 



GOi ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

But a most satisfactory cvideiico of the aJaiJtatiou of our pious to the work 
required there, resulted from a trial of oue of Starbuck's Troy plows, with 
a single horse, in the same field, with the same width and deptli of furrow, 
as was required on the trial. An English farmer made the trial himself. 
The plow was drawn by one of the large English farm horses, with entire 
ease, and when he had plowed so as to satisfy all present, that one horse 
would do the work, even in soil of the kind we were engaged in at the trial, 
It w;is remarked by many of the persons present, that "that is the plow the 
English farmer wants." This plow was sold on the ground and ten more 
were ordered in the very same neighborhood, and a very largo immber have 
since been sent to England as well as the Continent, " as the American plows 
found great favor among the English farmers, on account of their extraor- 
dinary cheapness and lightness of draught." 

Reaping Machines. — The favorable results of the trial of the plows, 
called more especially the attention of the public who visited the exhibition, 
to the value of the American Implements. On the return of the plows to 
the Palace, the one upon which the award was placed, as well as the other.s, 
excited much interest, and the reaping machines, which were soon to be 
tried, excited far more attention than before. The impression now seemed 
to prevail that these American Implements may, after all, do what has been 
promised. 

Trial of the Eeapeks at Tip-teee Hall. — Succeeding the trial of the 
plows came that of the Reapers, ou the 2I:th of July. There were three 
machines on exhibition. McCormick's Virginia Reaper, Hussey's American 
Reaper, and an English Reaper, made after Hussey's, but which, I believe, 
had not been tried. The place selected for trial was at Tip-tree Hall, Kel- 
vedon, Essex, the farm of Mr. J. J. Mechi, about forty-live miles from 
town. The day selected was the annual gathering of gentlemen at the farm 
of Mr. Mechi to inspect his crops and method of farming, which is exciting 
much iuterest in England. The day proved a very unfavorable one, as it 
rained during the whole day. The wheat upon which the trial was to be 
made was quite green and remarkably heavy, and everything as unfavorable 
as could well be. There were from one hundred and fifty to two hundred 
gentlemen present, many of whom had come upward of three hundred 
miles to witness the trial. 

The Sub-jury assigned to conduct the trial was composed of Colonel 
Challoner, one of the English Jurors, Baron Merten d'Ostius, of Belgium, 
and B. P. Johnson, United States ; and W. Fisher Hobbs, Esq., though not 
a member of the Jury, was present by invitation, at the trial. The first 
machine tried was Hussey's, which did not succeed, at it clogged very sooUj 
and passed over the grain without cutting it. After this had been tried two 
or three times and failed, it was proposed by one of the Jurors that no fur- 
ther trial be made by the Reapers — but it was insisted that the other Amer- 
ican Reaper should bo tried. The gentlemen present expected it, and I was 
not willing they should leave the ground without satisfying those present that 
the American Reapers would perform the \s-ork which it had been aCSrraed 
they could do. Mr. McCormick's Reaper was then brought up, managed by 
D. C. McKenzie, of Liviiig.-.ton county, in this State, who is entitled to no 
Utile credit for the successful result of the trial. This was a moment, as 



OF AMERICANS. 605 

may well be imagined, of no ordinary interest. One reajicr had not operated 
as was expected — another, and the only remaining American reaper to be 
tried, was now to be tested. The gentlemen present were anxious tluit some- 
thing should succeed that would cheapen the gathering of their crops — but 
from expressions made around me, I was satisfied they had no confidence in 
the reaper. They said, after the first trial, "it is as we expected — they will 
not work until perfeeled by an Euglisli mechanic." The laboring men, too_ 
when the first one was started, seemed perfectly astonished, fearing their 
vocation was gone — but when it failed to work, they brightened up and 
would doubtle.-is have given vent to their feelings, if another one had not 
been found ready for the trial, and might succeed. It can well bo imagined 
that the Americans, of whom only three were present, beside myself, were 
in quite as great a state of excitement as the others. The machine was 
started. After it had passed its length, the dean path made by the reaper — 
the grain falling from its side, showed that the work was done, and tha 
reaper was successful. After proceeding as far as was deemed necessary, the 
team was stopped, and Mr. Mechi jumped upon the platform and said, 
" Gentlemen, here is a triumph for the American Reaping Machine. It has, 
under all its disadvantages, done its work completely. Now let us, as Eng- 
lishmen, show them that we appreciate this contribution for cheapening our 
africullnre, and let us give the Ameiicaits three hearty English cheers." They 
were given, and with a fourth added, satisfying all tliat they were heartily 
"•ivcn. Another trial was then had, and the reaper timed — cutting, in sev- 
enty seconds, seventy-four yards in length, entirely clean, and to the satis- 
faction of the Jurors and the gentlemen present. The Jurors recommended 
the award of a Medal to Mr. McCormick. 

The result of this trial gave a new turn to affairs, and on the return of 
the Reapers to the Palace, crowds were continually examining them, and 
the American department from this time to the closing of the exhibition, 
was no longer the "prairie ground," but was thronged with inquiring visi- 
tors. The London Times, whose agricultural reporter was present, gave a 
very full account of this successful trial ; and in an article publislied soon 
after the trial, it was said, "that every practical success of the season be- 
longed to tlie Americans, their consignments showed poorly at first, but come 
out wtl„ i^pon trial." And again, "it will be remembered that tlie American 
department was the poorest and least interesting of all foreign countries. Of 
late, it llivs justly as.sumed a position of the first importance, as having brought 
to the aid of owx distressed agriculturalists, a machine, wliieli if it realizes the 
anticipations of competent judges, will amply remunerate England fur all her 
outlay connected with the Great Exhibition. The reaping machine from the 
United States is the most valuable contribution from abroad, to the stock of 
our previous knowledge, that wo have yet discovered." 

The late Chancellor of the Exchequer, Earl Granville, one of the Royal 
Commissioners, who devoted himself constantly to his duties as Commis- 
sioner, and to whom the exhibition is greatly indebted for its success, in 
speaking of the success of the Americans at the exhibition, alludes to " twp 
other American gentlemen, who are at present teaching ?« how to cut com, 
an act which we have been practicing for some hundreds of years in this 
island, hat of which, it appears, we are ignorant of the first principles." 



606 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Subsequent to the trial at Mr. Mechi's, another trial was had before tho 
Chairman of the Jury, Hon. Mr. Pusej-, Mr. Miles, M. P., and Baron II lu- 
beck, of Austria ; I give the report of Mr. Pusey, the Chairman, in which 
it will be noticed, that he speaks of an English machine, as too intricate, and 
that it had fallen into disuse fifty years since. 

Mr. Pusey's Report. — " At the opening of this century it was thought 
that a successful reaping machine had been invented, and a nnvard was 
voted bj' Parliament, to its author. The machine was employed here and 
abroad, hut from its intricacy fdl into disuse. Our farmers may well have 
been astonished by an American implement which not only reaped their 
jivheat, but performed the work with the neatness and certain!}' of an old 
and perfect machine. Its novelty of action reminded one of seeing the first 
engine run on the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, in 1830. Its perfec- 
tion depended on its being new only in England, but in America the result 
of repeated disappointment, untired perseverance. 

The United States Patent Commissioner says of Mr. McCormick's reaping 
machine : — ' In agriculture it is, in my view, as important, as a labor saving 
device, as the Spinning Jenny and Power Loom in Manufactures. It is one 
of those great and valuable inventions which commence a new era in the 
progress of improvement, and whose beneficial influence is felt in all coming 
time.' 

As to the practical working of the reaper, two horses drew it at the trial 
very easily round the outside of the crop until they finished in the center, 
showing that they could easily cut fifteen acres in ten hours. One man 
drives sitting, and another stands on the machine to rake. It is hard work 
for him, and the men ought sometimes to change places. The straw left 
behind at the trial was cut very regularly ; lower than by reaping, but higher 
than by fagging. The inventor stated that he had a machine which would 
cut it two inches lower. This is the point, I should say, to attend to, espe- 
cially for autumn cleaning. Though it seems superfluous to bring this ma- 
chine to tho test of economy, we may estimate the present cost of cutting 
fifteen acres of wheat, at an average of 9.s. per acre, to be £6 15i. Deduct 
for horses and men lOs. 3d., and for binding 2s. Qd. per acre, the account will 
stand thus : 

Average cost of reaping 15 acres, 9^. £6 15.0 

Horses and men for Pieaper, ------ £0 10.0 

Binding, 15 acres, 2s. 6d., - - - - 1 17.6 2 7. 6 

Saving per acre, 5s. lOd., £4. 7.6, or $21.20 

The saving in wages, however, would of course be an imperfect test of 
the reaper's merits, since in bad seasons and late districts it may often enable 
the farmer to save the crop. 

Since fresh trials have been made of Mr. McCormick's reaper, as also of 
one of Mr. Hussey ; and as the award under the Commission has been 
called in question, it is right that some statement should be made on the 
subject. In the first trial, at Tiptree Hall, Mr. McCormick's reaper worked 
well ; the other did not act at all. As the corn, however, was then green, 



OF AMERICANS. 607 

it was thought right to make further trial, ami special leave was obtained 
from the Council of Chairmen to give two Council Medals, one to each reaper, 
if on further trial their respective performances should be found to deserve 
one. The object in our second trial was not to decide which was the best 
implement, but whether either or both, were sufficiently good to receive the 
Council Medal. Mr. McCormick's in this trial worked, as it has since worked 
at Cirencester College and elsewhere, to the admiration of practical farmers, 
and therefore received a Council Medal. Mr. Hussey's sometimes became 
clogged, as in the former trial at Tiptreo, and therefore could not possibly 
obtain that distinction. 

Further trials, however, have since been made by other persons else- 
where, in which Mr. Hussey's machine worked well ; and one of our col- 
leagues, Mr. Thompson, informs me that it had been used for a week by a 
practical farmer, on his own farm, who was perfectly satisfied. Its inventor 
states that at the trials for the commission the failure arose from a mal-ad- 
justment ; and Mr. Thompson informs me that at one of the subsequent 
trials a similar mal-adjustment impeded its action, until Mr. Hussoy arrived 
to set it right. I am bound, then, to express my own individual opinion 
that the merits of the machine are such as to entitle it to a Council Medal, 
and my regret that it should formally be disqualified to receive one." 

Until the trial of the American Implements, and the most triumphant 
success of McCormick's Reaper, the United States department was compar- 
atively overlooked. But our triumph here, gave a new direction to public 
attention, and that part of our exhibition which previously had been slightly 
pa-ssed over, now attracted the notice of every visitor, and the press of 
England was prompt in admitting the completo and triumphant success 
of the Americans. It was no longer deemed necessary to say of our im- 
plements, "they may do for a new country," for the trial had satisfied the 
most prejudiced, that they were designed to advance the interests of 
the best cultivated countries of the old world, and "taught them how 
to cut corn by machinery, of whose first principles it appeared they were 
ignorant." 

The result of this trial was not unexpected to those Americans who were 
familiar with our implements, and to them was peculiarly gratifying, as 
placing our country in the position to which it was entitled and commanding 
that attention for our exhibition, which was justly due to it, from the char- 
acter of many of our articles, particularly those in the macliinery and agri- 
cultural departments. 

Churks formed a very numerous class in the exhibition ; of the four 
prizes awarded, one was for Anthony's American Churn, called the " Im- 
proved American Churn," well known in this countrj-, exhibited by an 
English firm who have the patent for England. In the American depart- 
ment there was shown from New Hampshire " Davis' Self Adjusting Churn," 
of the same principle substantially as the "Improved American Churn," to 
which a prize was awarded. 

The American Scythes, Axes, Hay and Manure Forks, etc., were very 
much approved, and so far as I have hoard from those familiar with these 
implements they were considered decidedly superior. 

Professor P,.- chk, of Washington, received a Prize Medal for his Standard 



COS ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

"Weights, Moasiu'es and Balance. They were admirably prepared, and few 
articles in the United States department attracted more attention. 

Daguerreotypes were extensively shown. Those from the United State.s 
were conceded to bo superior in general effect, to those from any other 
country. Brady & Lawrence, of New York, each received a Prize Medal — 
and one was awarded to a Mr. Whipple, of Michigan, for a daguerreotype 
of the moon. There were several other exhibitors whose pictures were very- 
superior. Those of Evans, from Buffalo, were much admired, as were those 
of Meade & Brothers, New York. The following article, from an English 
literary journal, shows in what estimation our exhibition was held. "Da- 
guerreotypes arc largely displayed by the French, as might have been ex- 
pected, that country being proud of the discovery ; but the examples ex- 
hibited by the Americans surpass, in general beauty of effect, any which wo 
have examined from other countries. This has been attributed to a differ- 
ence in the character of the solar light, as modified by atmospheric condi- 
tions ; we are not, however, disposed to believe that to be the case. We 
have certain indications that an increased intensity of light is not of any 
advantage, but rather the contrary, for the production of daguerreotypes; 
the luminous rays appearing to act as balancing powers against the chemical 
rays. Now, this being the case, we know of no physical cause by which the 
superiority can be explained, and we are quite disposed to be sufiSciently 
honest to admit that the mode of manipulation has more to do with the 
result than any atmospheric influences. However this may be, the character 
of the daguerreotypes executed in America is very remarkable. There is 
a fullness of tone, and an artistic modulation of light and shadow which, iu 
England, we do not obtain. The striking contrasts of white and black are 
shown decidedly enough in the British examples exhibited in the gallery — 
but here are coldness and hardness of outline. Within the shadow of the 
eagle and the striped banner we find no lights too white and no shadows too 
dark ; they dissolve, as in Nature, one into the other, in the most harmo- 
nious and truthful manner — and the result is more perfect pictures." 

Musical Instruments. — From the United States there were a number of 
Pianos exhibited, and although in the early part of the Exhibition they were 
slightly noticed by the press, every one of them received an award of a 
Medal or Honorable Mention. Chickering, Meyer, Nunns and Clark, re- 
ceived Medals. Messrs. Gilbert & Co., Heers & Pirssbn, Honorable Mention ; 
and Wood of Virginia, a money award of £50, for his Piano Violin, which 
attracted attention from its ingenuity, and was in constant requisition to 
satisfy the eager curiosity of visitors. Goodyear, of the United State.s, re- 
ceived Honorable Mention for an India Rubber flute. Palmer's artificial leg, 
from this country, received a medal, to which it was most justly entitled. 
Among the great number of preparations there was none that compared with 
this — and I was informed that the Marquis of Auglesea, who left one of his 
limbs at the battle of Waterloo — had Mr. Palmer before him, with his leg, 
and, in the midst of a collection not numerous enough to supply a large 
army, yet very extensive — this was pronounced superior to all. 

Prize Medals were awarded to the United States for an assortment of 
drillings, tickings, shirtings, sheetings and cotton flannel, exhibited by the 
Amoskeag Manuficturing Company, Manchester, New Hampshire, and the 



OF AMEKICANS. 609 

WillimaiUic Duck Maiiufacturiiig Company, for cotton sail cloth; tin; satno 
material, I tliinU, of which the sails of the American yacht were construoteJ, 
In the United States department some very fine shawls from the Lawrence 
Mills were shown, and attracted the notice of all interested in this class, and 
received a Prize Medal. There were some capital samples of leather from 
this State, exhibited by Hon. Zadock Pratt, of Prattsville, of eight different 
varieties, from /our tanneries, which had been finished in about four and a 
half months — mostly with hemlock bark. The samples were very ad- 
mirably finished, and attracted ^attention. Specimens were shown of Brus- 
sels carpet, woven by steam power, by Mr. Bigelow of the United States, 
which had never befor<! been accomplished, and will produce an entire 
revolution in the manufacture of this kind of carpets. The United States 
exhibition of Scythes by the North Wayne Company was decidedly su- 
perior to any other in the exhibition, and the Axes and other edged tools 
of Simmons & Co., of Cohoes, New York, were admitted to be without a 
rivah 

Locks of two of the most celebrated lock-makers in England, which had 
been considered proof against all attempts at picking, were opened by an 
American who had a lock on exhibition, Day & Newell's Parautoptic Per- 
mutating Lock, of which we propo.so to take some notice hereafter. 

Silas C. Herring's Salamander Safe, received a Medal, and it was equal to 
anv shown at the exhibition. There was deposited in this safe, in my pre- 
sence, £200 sterling, by Mr. Herring, and the safe locked, (having one of 
Day & Newell's Locks, I believe,) and notice phiced upon the safe, that 
any person was welcome to the money, who could open the safe — the key 
being at the service of any one who chose to make the attempt. It re- 
mained for forty-five days unnpeneiL 

The Exhibition of Locks was very extensive and of great excellence. 
Chubb & Son, celebrated English lock-makers, had a very fine exhibition 
of their locks, in great variety and most splendidly got up. They were ex- 
hibited as the Patent Detector Locks — are in use, or were, on the government 
vaults and offices, the Bank of England, and wherever safety was required. 
Chubb's locks for ordinary purposes have each six separate and distinct 
movable tumblers and a detector. If a surreptitious attemjit bo made to 
open any one, it was said immediate notice is given by the detector on the 
next application of the proper key. Bramah & Co., exhibited very fine 
samples of their various locks, and one brass case lock, exliibiting the num- 
ber of changes their locks will admit of, amounting to upward of four hun- 
dred and seventy-nine millions ! In their shop window in Piccadilly, London, 
was displayed a large padlock with a standing offer of two hundred guineas 
to any person who would open it with a single instrument. 

Soon after the exhibition opened, Mr. A. C. HoBBS, of New York, who 
had charge of Day & Newell's locks, obtained one of Chubb's locks and 
opened it in the space of ten or fifteen minutes, in the presence of several 
gentlemen. This, on becoming known, excited much interest and led to a 
publication from Chubb & Son challenging the opening of their locks. 
Mr. llobbs was permitted to make the attempt to open one of Chubb's locks, 
which was placed upon an iron door to a vault built for the depository of 
valuable pajjers. I give the proceedings which took place on this trial. 



GJO ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

" American Depaetment, 
Crystal Palace, Jidij 21. 
Gentlemen : — An attempt will be made to open a lock of your manu- 
facture on the door of a strong room at 34 Great George Street, Weftmir.ster, 
to-morrow, Tnesday, at eleven A. M. You are respectfully invited to be 
present and witness the operation. 

Yours respectfully, 

A. 0. HOBBS. 
To Messrs. Chubb & Son, St. Paul's Church Yard." 

(Messrs. Chubb did not notice this communicatian.) 

" London, Jul// 22, 1851. 

We, the undersigned, hereby certify that we attended, with permission of 
Mr. Bell, of No. 34 Great George Street, Westminster, an invitation sent 
to us by A. C. Hobbs, of the City of New York, to witness an attempt to 
open a lock throwing three bolts, and having six tumblers, afSxcd to the 
iron door of a strong room or vault, built for the depository of valuable 
papers, and formerly occupied by the Agents of the South Eastern Railway 
Company ; that we severally witnessed the operations, which Mr. Ilobbs 
commenced at thirty-five minutes past eleven A. M., and opened the lock 
within twenty-five minutes. Mr. Ilobbs, having been requested to lock it 
again, with his instruments, accomplished it in the short space of seven 
minutes, without the slightest injury to the lock or door (having previously 
had the assurance of Mr. Bell that the keys had never been accessible to 
Mr. Hobbs, he having permission to examine the key holes only). We found 
a plate at the back of the door with the following inscription : " Chubb's 
new patent (No. 161, 461), St. Paul's Church Yard, London, maker to Her 
Majesty." Signed by English gentlemen. 

'i'he annexed remarks from the London Times on the Lock controversy, 
anil the trial made upon Bramah's lock, by Mr. Hobbs, we give in prefer- 
once to any remarks of our own, as the whole matter is treated with very 
commendable fairness, and atones for much which the Times took occasion 
to say of our articles in the early stages of the Exhibition. 

" We believed before the Exhibition opened, that we had the best locks 
in the world, and among us, Bramah and Chubb were reckoned quite as im- 
pregnable as Gibraltar — more so, indeed, for the key of the Mediterranean 
was taken by us, but none among us could penetrate into the locks and shoot 
the bolts of these makers. In this faith, we had quietly established our- 
selves for years, and it seems cruel at this time of day, when men have been 
taught to look at their bunches of keys, and at their drawers and safes witli 
something like confidence, to scatter that feeling to the winds. The me- 
rbanical spirit, however, is never at rest, and if it is lulled into a false state 
of listlessness in one branch of industry, and in one part of the world, else- 
where it springs up s^uddenly to admonish and reproach us with our supine- 
ne.ss. Our descendants on the other side of the water are every now and 
then administering to the mother country a wholesome filial le.sson upon 
ibis very text, and recently they have been "rubbing us up" with a severity 
which pc-rhap;- w., merited for sneering i\t their short comings in the Exbi- 



OF AMERICANS. 611 

bitioD. While we have been relying implicitly upon the artful arrangement 
of "tumblers" and such like devices, they have been carefully devolopin<; 
their ingenuity in picking and opening looks. A man makes a lock, and 
he brings it to a Mechanics' Institute in New York with a certain sum of 
money secured by it, which sura becomes the property of the successful 
operator, who can shoot back the bolt of the new contrivance. Instantly 
astute heads, and clever, expert hands are engaged in solving the mechanical 
riddle thus propounded to them, and so far have these dexterous manipula- 
tors carried their art, that their "open sesame" sweeps springs, tumblers, 
false notches, letter devices, and everything else before it. Mr. Ilobbs is by 
far the most accomplished and successful of these performers, and he has 
come over to this country at a very opportune moment to teach our makeis 
a very useful lesson. It is well known, however Mr. Chubb may wrestle 
with the statement, that Mr. Ilobbs has succeeded, by perfectly fair means, 
in opening his locks as they have hitherto been made ; no formal and de- 
liberate trial has taken place between them to establish the fact, but it never- 
theless remains undoubted, and the sooner Mr. Chubb improves his patent, 
so as to set Mr. Hobbs at defiance, the better for his own interests. 

" Bramah & Co., have acted with more pluck, and have been beaten in 
a fair open field. They have acted with so much bold, open courage, that 
even when Mr. Hobbs' success was ascertained by us, we were reluctant to 
state the facts positively and circumstantially, until the award of the arbiters 
appointed on the subject, had becu made. That document we now publish, 
and the public, we are sure, when they read it, will not think the less of a 
firm which has been vanquished in a fair stand-up fight, maintained for so 
long a period, and against such extraordinary skill." 

"Report of the Arbitratora, to whom the Bramah Lock controversy was 
referred : 

Whereas, for many years past, a padlock has been exhibited in the 
window of the Messrs. Bramah's shop, in Piccadily, to which was appended 
a label with these words ; ' the artist who will make an instrument that will 
pick or open this lock, will receive two hundred guineas the moment it is 
produced;' and Mr. Ilobbs of America, having obtained permission from the 
Messrs. Bramah, to make a trial of his skill, in opening said lock, Messrs, 
Bramah and Mr. Hobbs, severally agreed that Mr. George Rennie, F. R. S., 
London, and Professor Cowper, of King's College, London, and l)r. Black, 
of Kentucky, should be the Arbitrators between the parties. On the 2M of 
July, it was agreed that the lock should be inclosed in a block of wood 
and screwed to a door, and the screws sealed, the key-hole and hasp only 
being accessible to Mr. Ilobbs ; and when he was not operating, the key-hole 
to be covered with a band of iron, and sealed by Mr. Hobbs ; that no other 
• person should have access to the keyhole. The key was also sealed up, 
and not to be used till Mr. Ilobbs had finished his operations. If Mr. Ilobbs 
succeeded in picking or opening the lock, the key was to bo tried, and if it 
locked and unlocked the padlock, it should bo considered a proof that Mr. 
Ilobbs had not injured the lock, but picked and opened it, and w;is entitled 
to the two hundred guineas. On the same day, July 23d, Messrs. Bramah 
gave notice to Mr. llohlw, that the lock was ready for operations. On July 
24th, Mr. Ilobbs coinn)enrr>d his operations, and on August 23il, Mr. Hobbs 
39 



612 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

exhibited the lock open to Dr. Black and Prof. Cowper, Mr. Eentiie being 
out of town. Dr. Black and Prof. Cowper, then called on Mr. Edward 
Bramah and Mr. Barzalgettc, and showed them the lock open. They then 
withdrew, and Mr. Uobbs locked and unlocked the padlock, in the presence 
of Dr. Black and Prof. Cowper. Between July 21th and August 2Sd, Mr. 
Hobbs' operations were for a time suspended, so that the number of days 
occupied by him were sixteen, and the r.umber of hours spent by him iu 
the room with the lock was fifty one. On Friday, August '29th, Mr. Ilobba 
aghin locked and unlocked the padlock in the presence of Mr. George Ronnie, 
Prof. Cowper, Dr. Black, Mr. Edward Bramah, Mr. Barzalgette, and Mr. 
Abrahant^ On Saturday, August 30lh, the key was tried, and the padlock 
was locked and unlocked wiih the key, by Prof. Cowper, Mr. Eennie and 
Mr. Gelbertson, thus proving that Mr. Hobbs had fairly opened the lock with- 
out injuring it, Mr. Hobbs then formally produced the instruments with 
which he had opened the lock. We are, therefore, un.inimously of opinion, 
that Messrs. Bramah have given Mr. Hobbs a fair opportunity of trying his 
skill, and that Mr. Uobbs hsis fairly picked or opened the lock, and we decide 
that Messrs. Bramah & Co. do now pay to Jlr. Hobbs, two hundred guineas. 

GEORGE EENNIE, Chainnan. 

EDWARD COWPER, 

G. R. BLACK. 
Sollatui Street, Blackfriars, Sept. 2, ISol." 

This document is conclusive on the merits of the question. " This rough 
lesson will probably lead Messrs. Bramah and Chubb to devise some means 
for rendering their patents more secure, and we have no doubt they will 
succeed." "An attempt will be made, it is said, to pick the American lock, 
and when it is remembered that our cousins show several locks, all of which 
are represented .■xs perfectly secure, it is high time for our lockmakers either 
to show that the American patents are equally unsafe as their own, or to 
acknowledge themselves beaten, and ende.ivor to make belter locks for the 
future." 

The trial was made upon Day & Newell's lock, by one of the most 
expert locksmiths to be found in England, and after a trial of thirty days, 
the lock was returned by the judges, who were agreed upon, uninjured, the 
operator not having made an impression upon it. So completely was the 
security of the American locks established, that they were ordered for the 
Bank of England, and in other directions, where s;ifety was required — and 
a company has been organized for their manufacture in England, of which 
Mr. Uobbs is the managing director. 

Prize Medals were awarded to the United States, to Day & Newell for 
their lock (with special approbation), to Adams & Co., for bank lock ; 
Arrowsmith, for Permutation locks ; McGregor & Lee for bank lock, and 
the exhibitors claimed equal security with D.iy & Newell's though they 
were not put to the test so far as I was informed. 

In one of the London journals, the foreign contributions were thus char- 
Rcterizcd. "France, Austri.-v Spain, Germany, Belgium, and the United 
States, have furnished us with the finest specimens of their several excel- 
lence in cabinet-making, in each of which may be traced the mechanical 
skill and prevjiilitig taste of the present time. France is ligbf, elegant, yet 



OF AMEUICAKS. C13 

conveniont in the form of her objects; Austria is heavy, luxiuious and co- 
lossal, with one or two exceptions; America is smart, original aiul adajita- 
tive, wliile Spain has sent a Table, the wonder of the world, of inlayei-s and 
marqucterie- workers." 

The Exhibition from the United States \v;is not large, yet our chairs, bed- 
steads, etc., were attractive to the visitors, and some of them novelties, which 
many had never before seen. Our rocking chaire, and the chairs of the Troy 
Company, and the reclining chair of Ragan of Philadelphia, were examine<l 
with no little interest. An Honorable Mention was made of the Reclining 
chairs ; and the chairs of the American Chair Company, Tro}-, are being 
manufactured in England, and are much esteemed. 

GooDTKAK, from the United States, received a Council Medal for his In- 
dia Rubber Goods, and I think his excelled all others in their extent, as 
well as their adaptation to the various purposes for which they were de- 
signed. A new article, India Rubber Globes, which I had never before seen, 
wi\s shown by him. They are very convenient, can be inflated instantly, 
and suspended for use, and when not wanted, can be packed away occupying 
very little space. They were much admired. 

Corn Brooms, from this country, were exhibited of very great perfection, and 
they attracted no little attention as they were objects of curiosity to the great 
portion of the visitors who had never before seen a broom of this description. 

From this country, Powers' Grkek Sl.we w.as the most finished work, 
and although it received only a Prize Medal, it was, in the opinion of many, 
entitled to a Council Medal. A young artist, by the name of Stephenson, 
from this country, exhibited a statue of a wounded Indian, which was a 
very striking one, and possessed much merit, and several of the distinguished 
sculptors at the exhibition expressed the higliest admiration of it. 

The exhibition from the United States, and that from England, to a very 
great extent, showed that private enterprise had furnished the contributions 
exhibited — and so far as this country was concerned, the character of our 
contributions was such as to meet the wants .and necessities of the great 
body of the people. The testimony given by a loading journal in England, 
is appropriate, in elucidating this fact. The writer, in speaking of the con- 
tributions from the United States, at a late day of the Exhibition, after 
dwelling at length upon the very different character of the contributions 
from the continent, and from Engl.and, says : "Their industrial system, un- 
fettered by ancient usage, and by the pomp and m.ignificenco which our 
social institutions countenance, is essentially democratic in its tendencies. 
They produce for the m.asses, and for a wholesale consumption. There \a 
hardly anything shown by them, which is not easily within the roach of the 
most moderate fortune. No government fiivoritism raises any branch of 
manufactures to a pre-eminence which secures for it the patronage of the 
wealthy. Everything is intrusted to the ingenuity of individuals, who look 
for their reward to public demand alone. With an immense command of 
raw produce, they do not, like many other countries, skip over the wants of 
the many, and rush to supply the luxuries of the few. 0-. the contrary, 
they have turned their attention eagerly and successfully to machinery, as 
the first stage in their industrhil progress. They seek to supply the short 
comings of their labor market, and to combine utility with cheapness. 



614 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

The most ordinary commodiLics aru not beneath tlieir notice, and even 
nursery chairs are included in their collection of 'notions.' They have 
beaten us in Yacht building, they pick our best locks, they show us how tu 
reap corn by machinery, and to make Brussels carpets by the power loom. 
Our coopers will hear with dismay, and our brewers with satisfaction, that 
by an invention of theirs recently introduced into the Exhibition, one man 
can do the work of twenty in stave-making, and far more efficiently. Such 
triumphs do not much affect the mechanical superiority of the mother :oun- 
try, but they serve to show, that while, on the one side, nations less free and 
enlightened than ours, teach us how to throw a luster and grace over the 
peaceful arts; our own children are now and then able to point cut how we 
can irapiove and extend them." 

I have given these remarks, because they were drawn out by the results 
of the trial of our implements, which led to a wore candid and thorough ex- 
amination of all we had on exhibition, and elicited this tribute to American 
Institutions, and the enterprise of our citizens ; and it is also the more readily 
given, as it was the very conclusion, which at an early day in the E.\hibition, 
was presented to a distinguished journalist, as the one to which he would be 
constrained to come, when an opportunity was afforded us, of practically de- 
monstrating the value of our implements, which were then untried. It is im- 
portant also, as showing the great change which had taken place in the public 
mind in regard to the American quarter, which, instead of being the "prairie 
ground," as in derision called, became the observed of all observers. 

As a further evidence of the practical character and adaptation of mauy of 
our articles to the wants of the age, I give another extract from the same 
journal, in an article giving an account of the progress made by the British 
and Americans through the trials of the season. After alluding to the British 
portion of the contributions, it is remarked of the American, " On the other 
hand, it is beyond all denial, that every practical success of the season belongs 
to the Americans. Their consignments sho\ved poorl}', at first, but came 
out well upon trial.. Their reaping machine has carried conviction to the 
heart of the British agriculturalist. Their revolvers threaten to revolutionize 
military tactics, as completely as the original discovery of gunpowder. Their 
Yacht takes a class to itself. Of all the victories ever won, none has been 
so transcendent as that of the New York Schooner. The account given of 
her performance, suggests the inapproachable excellence attributed to JU- 
PITER, by the ancient poets, who describe the King of the Gods as being 
not only supreme, but having none other next to him. ' What's first ?' ' The 
America.' 'What's second?' 'Nothing.' Besides this, the Baltic, one of 
Collins' line of steamers, has 'made the fastest pass.age yet known, across 
'the Atlantic' Finally, as if to crown the triumphs of the year, Americaus 
have actually sailed through the Isthmus, connecting the two continents of 
the New World, and while Englishmen have been doubting and grudging,. 
Yankees have stepped in and won the day. So we think, on the whole, 
that we may afford to shake hands and exchange congratulations, after which 
we must lear'i as much as we can from each other." In concluding another 
article on the Exhibition, it is said, " Great Britain has received nwre useful- 
ideas and more ingenious inventions from tJie United States, through the ex- 
hibition, than from all other sources."' 



OF AMKUICAXS. 615 

VICTORY OP THK YACHT AMERICA. 

The New York Yacht America arrived at Cowes, on the Isle of Wight, 
early in July, 1851, and her owner, John C. Stephens, at once offered a 
heavy wager to sail her against any yacht in the world. She was visited 
by multitudes from every part of England, but her challenge was not ac- 
cepted. 

On the 18th of August, tlicro was a race of seventeen yachts, owned by 
gentlemen from every part of Great Britaiti, contending for the prize of the 
golden cup, which the queen gives every year to the best yacht in the king- 
dom. The America was entered for the race, and won it so easily, as to 
excite the unbounded admiration and applause of the English people, who 
with a hearty generosity waved their hats and huzzaed at the sight of the 
brilliant success of the Yankee schooner, over a whole fleet of their choicest 
yachts. 

On the 25th of August, there was another race by the squadron, but the 
America was not entered. The wind was light, and the last vessel of the 
squadron had been under weigh an hour and live minutes, when the America 
hoisted sail and followed. The race was round the Isle of Wight, and she 
came in only ten minutes behind tie winner, thus having accomplished the 
distance in fifty-five minutes less time than the fastest of the English yachts. 

Mr. Stephenson, the distinguished English engineer, then offered to sail 
his yacht the Titania, for a small wager against the America. The offer was 
accepted and the race came off on the 2Sth of August. The wind was fresh 
and the course was forty miles out and furty back. Earl Wilton was umpire. 
The America won the race by a long distance. 

We give a detailed account of the first of these trial.s, that of .\ugust 18lh, 
when the queen and royal family were wituesses of the triumph of our 
countrymen. It is extracted from the London Times. 

"The telegraphic dispatch which appeared in the Times this morning 
stated the 'great fact' that the America had beaten the yachts which had 
started against her on Friday, for the Royal Yacht Squadron Cup of one 
hundred pounds value in the most complete and triumphant manner. It 
now remains to give the particulars of the event, as one of no ordinarj' in- 
terest. A large portion of the peerage and gentry of the United Kingdom, 
left their residences, to witness the struggle between the yachtsmen of Eng- 
land, hitherto unmatched and unchallenged, and the Americans who had 
crossed the Atlantic to meet them. Even the Queen of England did not 
deem the occasion unworthy of her presence. Until within a few days no 
Englishman ever dreamed that any nation could produce a yacht with the 
least pretensions to match the efforts of our eminent builders. 

In the yacht list, for this very year, there is an assertion which every man 
within sight of sea water from the Clyde to the Solent would swear to — that 
'yacht building, was an art in which England was unrivaled, and that she 
was distinguished pre-eminently and alone for the perfection of science in 
handling them.' The conduct of the Americans since their arrival in the 
Solent, had been bold, manly and straight-forward — qualities, which Eng- 
lishmen respect wherever they are found, and love to see even in an oppo- 
ocnt. 



61G ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

*n the memory of man, Cowes never presented such an appeiivanoe as on 
last Friday. There must have been upward of one hundred yachts lying at 
an&hor in the roads ; the beach was crowded, the esplanade in front of the 
club house thronged with ladies and gentlemen, and with the people from 
the main tand, who came over in shoals to the island, with wives, sons and 
daughters for the day. Booths were erected all along the quay, and the 
roadstead was alive with boats, while from sea and shore arose an incessant 
buzz of voices, mingled with the splashing of oars, the flapping of sails and 
the hissing of steam from the excursion vessels preparing to accompany tha 
race. The windows of the houses which commanded the harbor were filled 
from the parlor to the attic, and the old 'salts' on the beach gazed moodily 
on the low black hull of ' the Yankee,' and spoke doubtingly of the chances 
of her competitors, for the few trial runs the America had made after her 
arrival proved she was of great speed, and had given them such a taste of 
her quality that they were truly apprehensive of the result. Some thought 
'the Volante' might prove a teazer if the wind was light, others speculated 
on 'the Alarm' doing mischief if the wind was heavy enough to bring out 
her qualities, in beating up to windward and in tacking; while more were 
of the opinion that the America would carry otf the cup, ' blow high or 
Mow low.' ■ 

It was with the greatest difHcuUy that the little town gave space enough 
to the multitudes that came from all quarters to witne^.s an event so novel 
and interesting. Among the visitors were many strangers, — Frenchmen en 
route for Havre, Germans in quiet wonderment at the excitement around 
them, and Americans already triumphing in the anticipated success of their 
countrymen. 

The following yachts were entered and moored in a double line, in the order 
in which they here follow. Beatrice, Volante, Arrow, Wyvcrn, lone, Con- 
stance, Titania, Gipsey-Queen, Alarm, Mona, America, Brilliant, Bochante 
Freak, Stella, Eclipse, Fernando and Aurora. At five minutes before ten 
o'clock, the preparatory gun was fired, from the club house batter3', and the 
yachts were soon sheeted from deck to topmast, with clouds of canvas. Tha 
whole flotilla not in the race, were already in motion to get a good start of 
the clippers and witness the race. 

At ten o'clock, the signal gun for sailing was fired, and before the smoke 
had well cleared awa}' the whole of the beautiful fleet was under way, 
moving steadily to the east, with the tide and a gentle breeze. The start 
was eflfectod splendidly, the yachts breaking away like a field of race horses ; 
the only laggard was the America, which did not move for a second or so 
after the others. 

Steamers, shore boats and yachts, of all sizes buzzed along on each 
side of the course, and spread aw.iy for miles over the rippling sea — such a 
sight as the Adriatic never beheld in all the pride of Venice ; such, beatuu 
though we are, as no other country in the world could exhibit, while it is 
confessed that anything like it was never seen even here in the annals of 
yachting. 

The Gipsey-Queen with all her canvas set, and in the strength of the 
tide, took the lead after starting, with the Beatrice next, and then with little 
difference in order, the Volante, Constance, Arrow and a flock of others. 



OF AMERICANS. CI 7 

The America wont easily for some time under m;iiiisail willi a small gaff top 
sail, fors;iil, forestaysail and jib; while her oppoiioiits had cverv cloth set 
that the club regulations allow. She soon began to creep upon then., and 
in a quarter of an hour she had left them all behind, except the Constance, 
Beatrice and Gipsey-Queen, which went along smartly, together with the 
light breeze. As the glorious pageant passed under Osborne House, the sight 
was surpassing fine, the whole expanse of sea, from shore to shore, being 
filled as it were with a countless tleet. At half past ten, the Gipsey-Queen 
caught a draft of wind, and rau past the Constatice, Arrow, America and 
A.arm, being nearly in a line. At a quarter to eleven, the breeze freshened 
a,;iii: fi. r a few minutes, and the America passed the Arrow, Constance and 
Alarm, but could not shake off the Volante, nor come up with the Gipsey- 
Queen, and exclamations were heard of — ' Well, Brother Jonathan is not 
going to have it all his own way.' Passing Hyde, the excitement on shore 
was very great ; but the America was forging ahead, and lessening the 
immber of her rivals every moment. The Sandheads were rounded by the 
Volante, Gipsey-Queen and America at eleven o'clock. Again the wind 
freshened, and the fast yachts came rushing up before it, the run from the 
Sandheads being most exciting and well contested. 

At Norman's Land buoy, the wind blew more steadily, and the America 
began to slww a touch of her quality. Whenever the breeze took the line 
of her hull, all the sails set as ilat as a drum head, and without any careening 
or staggering, she 'walked along' past cutter and schooner, and when off 
Brading had left every vessel in the squadron behind her — a mere ruck — 
except the Volante, which she overtook at half past eleven, when she very 
quietly hauled down her jib, as much as to say she would give her rival 
every odds, and laid herself out for the race b;ick of the island. The weather 
showed symptoms of improvement as far as yachting was concerned ; the 
waves rolled their white caps under the incre;ising breeze, and the Yankee 
flew like the wind leaping over, not against the water, and increasing her 
distance from the Gipsey-Queen, Volante and Alarm every instant. 

The way her sails were set evinced superiority in the cutting, which our 
makers would barely allow ; but certain it is that while the jibs and main- 
sails of her antagonists were 'bellied out,' her canvass was as Hal as a sheet 
of paper. No foam, but rather a water jet arose from her bow ; and the 
greatest jioint of resistance — and resistance there must be somewhere — seemed 
about the beam, or just forward of her mainmast, for the sea Hashed off from 
her sides, at that point every time she met them. While the cutters were 
thrashing through the water, and sending the spray over their bows, and the 
schooners were wet up to the foot of the foremast, the America was as dry 
as a bone. 

When off Sandown, a few minutes past twelve, the breeze lulled away. 
While running under Dunnoze, at two minutes to one, her jib beam broke 
short off. This accident gave her opjionents iidvantage of about quarter of 
an hour, while she was gathering in the wreck. But it was of little use to 
them. Looking away to the east, they were visible at gre.at distances, 
standing in shore or running in and out most helplesiily astern. Her supe- 
riority was so decided, that several of the yachts wore and went back agaiu 
to Cowes \t. despair. 



C18 ADVENTURES AND ACillEVEMENTS 

At twenty minutes to six, the Aurora, the nearest yacht was fully seven 
and a half miles astern, the Freak eight and a lialf miles, and the rest 'no- 
where.' The America was at this time close to the Needles. Two of tho 
excursion steamers ran into Alum Bay and anchored. While waiting there 
in intense anxiety for the fir^t vessel that should shoot round the immense 
pillars of chalk and limestone which comprise what is called the Needles, 
the passengers were delighted to behold the Victoria and Albert (on board 
of which was the queen, her husband and suite) steaming round from the 
northwest, iler majesty, the prince, and the royal family, were visible by the 
aid of a glass from the excursion steamers. Soon all doubt and speculation, 
if any there could have been, was removed by the appearance of the Amer- 
ica, hauling her wind round the cliff at ten minutes to six. When under 
the shore all the steamers weighed and accompanied her, giving three cheers 
as she passed, a compliment which owners and crew acknowledged with 
uncovered heads and waving hats. At ten minutes past six, the America 
got in a line with the Victoria and Albert. 

Though it is not usual, to recognize the presence of her majesty on such 
occasions as a racing match, no more indeed than a jockey would pull up his 
horse, to salute the queen when in the middle of his stride, the America 
instantly lowered her ensign — blue, with white stars — the commodore took 
off his hat, and all his crew following his order and example, remained with 
uncovered heads for some minutes till they had passed — a mark of respect 
to the queen not the less becoming because it was bestowed by republionns- 
The steamers as she passed on, renewed their cheering and the private bat- 
tery of some excellent gentleman opened fire, with a royal salute, as tho 
Victoria and Albert slowly steamed alongside the America. 

When off Cowes, near the starting point, were innumerable yachts, and on 
every side was hesrd the hail. 

' Is the America first ? ' 

The answer, ' Yes ! ' 

■* What second ?' 

The reply, ' Nothing !' 

On the evening of the day after the race, a reunion took place at the club 
ihouse, and the occasion was taken of the presence of Mr. Abbot Lawrence, 
the American minister, to compliment him on the success of his countrymen. 
His excellency acknowledged the kindness in suitable terms, and said that 
though he could not but be proud of the triumph of his fellow-citizens, he 
Btill felt it was but the children giving a lesson to the father. 

We have thus undeniably been beaten, but we have been beaten with agood 
grace and "ur ccmue-ors are thf first to admit it. They speak iu the highest 
terms of the condescension and kindness of the aristocracy they had been 
taught to believe arrogant and unbending, and acknowledge iu the warmest 
way the affability and courtesy of the gentry and of the various clubs. 

This evening the America sailed from Cowes to Osborne, in consequence 
of an intimation, that the queen wished to inspect her. At a quarter past 
six, the queen embarked in the state barge, accompanied by his royal high- 
ness. Prince Albert and suite, and on Hearing the America the national colors, 
were dipped out of respect to her majesty, and raised again when she had 
proceeded on board. The queen made a close inspection of the America 



OF AMERICANS. C19 

and expressed great admiration of the general arrangomeiits, and (.■haracter 
of lliis famous schooner." 

When the tidings reached our country, that the "^mmm /<crf ieaZra (/i« 
world," the electric telegraph everywhere burned with welcome news. " The 
cry was caught up by millions, and congratulations of joy went reverberating 
from the sterile hills of Now England until they were answered back from 
the orange groves of the distant Mississippi." 

The magnanimity with which the English people cheered the America, 
an witnessing her triumph over their whole fleet of choicest yaclits we fear 
would not have been paralleled under similar circumstances by our country- 
men. The Liverpool Journal frum whicli wo now quote, furnished a speci- 
men of tlie comments which this event drew from the English press. 

" When Charlemagne saw the sail of the Northmen in the Mediterranean 
he covered his face with his hands and wept, in a prescience of the future. 
When Queen Victoria, yesterday week, witnessed tlie triumph of an American 
sail in a channel that washes her marine residence on the Isle of Wight, she 
did what Cluirlemagno ought to have done — she took note of the excellence 
which had achieved a victory, tacitly telling her subjects to profit by rivalry 
and keep their proud place in the advance of nations. The United States 
of America, now occupy that place on the globe which presents advantages 
■unknown to all ancient and contemporaiy nations. She reposes between 
two ocean.s, one washing Europe, the other Asia. Nothing was wanting to 
the local enthronement of civilization but aptitude in the inhabitants ; and 
the history of the past weeh, gives ample testimony to its abundant exist- 
ence. In practical science we admitted no rivalry for more than a century ; 
in trade we despised competition ; and we claimed indis|nitabl}' the sove- 
reignty of the seas. For some time, however, the Yankees have been (juietly 
encroaching on our maritime privilege by the rigid application of the great 
principles of commerce and science. They have, compared with ourselves, 
been equally enterprising — they have been more skillful ; and while we jiay 
willin" homage to genius in whomsoever manifested, it is a mortification that 
in our waters, an American yacht won the prize from the yachts of all na- 
tions, and that an American-built steamer has made the quickest passage 
across the Atlantic. The Yankees are no longer to be ridiculed, much less 
despised. The new world is bui-sting into greatness — walking past the old 
world, as the America did the yachts at Cowes, ' hand over hand.' She 
dipped her star-spangled banner to the royalty of Great Britain, for supe- 
riority is ever courteous; and this graceful act indicates the direction in 
which our inevitable competition should proceed, America, in her own 
phrase, i'' ' g^'ing ahead,' apd will assuredly pa.ss us unless we accelerate our 
speed ; and if our competitors once pass us, we are lo.st." 

The results of the exhibition and the yacht race were so astonishing th.it 
it led to much philosophizing, by the English pres.', upon America and the 
Americans. The Bi^tish Quarterly Review came out in an article upon this 
subject, from which we take a few paragraphs, which are worthy of record 
for their general truthfulness and insight into the workings of our institution;;. 
" First of all then, the Americans are a nation ; they disjilay and are per- 
vaded by a most intense spirit of nationality. No small nation of the OKI 
World — not the Swiss, not the Scotch before the Union, not the Danes, are 



620 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

jHissessed and animated in so extreme a degree b}- llie pure sentiment of nation- 
alitj' as this large and liiglily-factitious nation of North America. True, the 
Union is divisible into four groups of States, presenting very marked differ- 
ences from each other, as regards interests, social condition, and even physi- 
ognomy. First, there is the New England group of States — the laud of 
the genuine Yankees, the hard-headed, laborious, dogmatic, shrcud, free, 
and enterprising descendants of the old Puritans. Next, there is the middle 
group of States — -the seat of the great commercial interests, and of the more 
comprehensive political tendencies, of the Union. Then there is the 
southern group of States — the seat of slavery-, and of aristocratic leisure and 
luxury, and the population of which, though less industriou.s, enterprising, 
and even intellectual than the New Englanders, are yet distinguished as 
having supplied the greatest number of statesmen to the Union. Lastly, 
there is the western group of States — the land of independent small farmers, 
the paradise of the agricultural immigrant, and the home of absolute demo- 
cratic equality. But though these four groups of States have their distin- 
guishing characteristics, and even their points of antagonism, in some cases 
exaggerated (as in the slavery controversy between the South and the 
North), into threats of political disruption ; yet, on the whole, the inh.abit- 
ants of all the four have no deeper feeling than that which displays itself 
in the boast that they are Americans. The nationality of the Americans is, 
as we all know, proverbially offensive. There never was a nation on the 
earth so vain of its own merits, and so contemptuous of the merits of others. 
' Are we not a great nation, sir ? ' is their salutation to every foreign traveler in 
the States ; and the common phrases of bombast put into the mouths of 
Americans in works of fiction, 'We are an almighty fine people ;' 'We can 
put the Atlantic in one pocket, and the Pacific in another, and reduce the 
universe to nowhere and a spot of grease,' are hardly exaggerations of the 
actual slang with which the Americans regale their own sense of their 
national importance. Disagreeable in individuals, this national braggardisra 
is formidable and respectable when viewed as characteristic of a people in 
the aggregate ; and its possession by a people composed ethnographically of 
such heterogeneous elements is an illustration of Kossuth's remark, that the 
nation of every man is not a certain fragment of population miukcd out for 
him by considerations of race or even of language, but the seat of tho.se 
social forms under whose influence his being has been developed. Even a 
black in America disclaims being an African, and says proudly, when he is 
asked to what country he belongs, 'lam an American.' 

In the second place, the Americans are not only a nation, full to the brim 
of the consciousness of nationality ; they are also entitled, according tc any 
test or measure that can be applied to them, to rank high in the cosmopo- 
litical scale. Tried by the numerical measure of population they are already 
on a par with Great Britain, .and will soon leave it behind. Even Russia, 
with its fifty millions, must regard America as a full-grown nation. Again, 
tried by the test of exports and imports — that i.-;, of commercial necessity to 
the rest of the world — the United States hold a place with the first. Fur- 
ther, if we make military and naval prowess the test of cosmopolitical im- 
portance, America will still stand second to none. She has already, in tho 
past, given sufficient proof of her capacities for fighting, both by sea and 



OF AMERICAXS. 621 

land ; and, if it bo not yet admitted tliat the Americans arc superior to the 
English at sea, it is at least certain tliat the despotic powers of the Old 
World would bo more chary of insultinj; the star-spangled banner, than of 
insulting the &;\s. of England. A Yankee captain, indeed, is notoriously 
the most terrible thing going; and chips of the American block generally, 
thongh they are recognized everywhere as the most braggart and irreverent 
of the sons of men, are recognized, also, as the most dangerous to be locked 
up or called in question for anything they say or do. Add to all this the 
consideration that in all departments of intellectual labor America is a lead- 
ing nation. In art and literature, indeed, as well as in the higher walks of 
pure speculative science, America is yet behind England ; though there is 
evidence, even now, that a spirit of more original effort in such things is at 
work among the Americans. But in the application of science to the social 
uses, in industrial invention, and generally in such exercises of the intellect 
as give a country practical eminence among the nations of the world, they 
have already an acknowledged superiority. Among the machines for agri- 
cultural and other purposes sent to the Great Exhibition, those sent from 
America were the mosfuseful ; and Colt's pistol is but one example of an 
invention proceeding from America, and claiming instantly the attention of 
the whole world. Essentially the same thing, in reality, with this claim of 
America to high cosmopolitical estimation, in virtue of her Colt's pistols, 
her improved plows, reaping machines, models of ships, and the like, is 
her claim to the cosmopolitical estimation in virtue of the fact that she is 
already in posses.'iion of a great many conclusions on important social ques- 
tions, which are, by their very nature, interesting to all the world alike, and 
that she is at present the richest known field of experimentation, with a 
view to the elucidation of other social questions. 

The very thing that most of all gives a country cosmopolitical importance, 
is its ability to furnish out of its own experience answers to the questions that 
chance at the moment to be of greatest social interest to other countries, or 
to exhibit going on within its bosom processes and experiments, the issue of 
which is not yet clear perhaps even to itself, but which are curious, novel, 
and suggestive in their nature. Russia, in this respect, is almost a blank on 
the map. It has a claim to cosmopolitical respect, because it is a formidable 
power of conquest, and because it supplies us with hemp and the like ; but 
who ever looks to Russia for solutions of problems common to all parts of 
the world, or for brilliant social sight-* and suggestions ? America, on the 
olher hand, is like a black-board on which something new is ever being 
chalked up, whether in the way of solution or of interrogation. For ex- 
ample, the entire political system of America is a practical sohition of the 
great problem, everywhere important, of the reconciliation of local self- 
government with federation. The question of national defenses without 
standing armies is also set in a new light to us by the militia .system of 
America ; while the question of the competence of a people to act on the 
aggressive, without standing armies, also receives light from the experience 
iif America in volunteer enterprises. A hundred such examples might be 
given of points of great social interest, on which America may be said to 
have fully made up its mind, while the other nations are still only bungling 
in the dark. Lastly, what are such odd manifestations as the sjiirit rappings 



622 AUVEXTUKES AND ACUIEVEIIENTS 

the Mormonite outburst with its consequences, and all the other similar 
developments of American inquisitiveness or credulity, but chalkings, as it 
were, ou the black-board of the world for the other nations to look at ? If 
it be the case that humanity has not yet filled out its utmost constitutional 
limits, but that from age to age it is continually efflorescing into new man- 
ifestations, which seem at first anomalies, but are in reality normal and 
natural, where shall we look for the last efSorcsoeuce, the freshest sprouts, 
but in that country where human nature is newest and most advanced ? 

The third remark we would make about the American nation, regarded 
from our present point of view, is that no nation of the world seems to com- 
bine such an incessant and universal disposition to political activity, with 
8uch a beggarly show of internal political questions whereon to gratify that 
disposition. The American nation combines, more conspicuously than any 
other yet known, extreme sociability, that is, an extreme anxiety on the 
part of individuals to concern themselves with the general politics of the 
state, with extreme individual freedom — that is, an extreme want of apparent 
necessity for any political activity at all. The ancient Athenians, in the 
days of their palmy democracy, were not ch.aracterized by greater political 
zeal and activilj' than the Americans. Every American is an active politi- 
cian ; every American, as a citizen, has an interest in public affairs, widen- 
ing from the little circle of hi.s own neighborhood to the great area of the 
federal government. Hence a development among the Americans of all 
kinds of political aptitude — aptitude in business arrangements for a political 
purpose, in public speaking on political questions, and the like — unrivaled 
among any other modern people. Stump-oratory among the Americans is 
as necessary a part of their civilization as was the eloquence of popular 
assemblies among the Athenians. And yet, with all this political energy 
diffused among individuals, the fields of disputed points over which political 
energy may range, might seem to be less important and extensive than in 
any of the older nations. In America, the great questions of civil liberty, 
of the sovereignty of the people, of a state church or no state church, ol 
secular or ecclesiastical education — these, and all the other great questions 
of life or death, which are and for a long time will be the standing difficul 
ties against which political energy in the older countries must dash and dis 
play itself, have been settled and extinguished. Even p.auperism has hardly 
the r.ank of a great jjublic question in a country where there is such indefi- 
nite room for an expansion of the population. With the exception of the 
single matter of slavery, there seems to be no question in the internal poli- 
tics of America of very great magnitude, as measured by a general human 
standard. In short, that general ' Condition-of-America question,' on which 
the politici.ans and people of the United States divide themselves into parties, 
seems, to eyes looking on them from the outside, to be a mere aggregate of a 
great number of little questions of finance and the like, floating on the wave of 
passing circumstances. Yet, out of this most hopeless condition of things, 
as it might seem, for political activity, the Americans have contrived to raise 
a whirlwind and palaver, such as has hardly ever been seen even in a country 
agonized by questions of death, and life, and libertj-. Nowhere does party- 
spirit run so high as in the United States, nowhere is political controversy 
carried on with greater virulence and more tremendous excitement." 



ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 



OF 



AMERICANS ABROAD 

A COLLECTION OF INTERESTING MISCELLANIES. 



" Ladies and Gentlemen," is a chivalrous expression, inasmuch as the 
word which indicates the gentler sex first droiis from the lips. In accord- 
ance with the idea upon which this custom is founded, viz : prior attention 
to that important part of creation who alone furnish mothers, wives, and 
sisters — we begin this article with an account of a lady, one, too, of the 
"strong-minded" sort, who was fully capable of taking care of herself in 
all situations. 

ADVENTURES OP THE ECCENTEIC AND PATRIOTIC FEMALE ARTIST, PATIENCE 

WRIonT. 

This extraordinary woman, whose name belongs to the history of Amer- 
ican Art, and v.hose patriotism should make her known to the American 
people, was born in Bordentown, New Jerse}', in the year 1725, and, like 
West, among a sect who eschewed images or pictures, for ber parents were 
also Quakers. Iler maiden name was Lovell, and at twenty-three years of 
age she married Joseph Wright, who died in 17C9. 

Dunlap, in his " Ilistory of the Arts of Design," gives this account of 
her : " She made her earliest attempts at molding before she had any works 
of art. From childhood, the dough intended for the oven, or the clay 
found near the house, assumed in her hands somewhat the semblance of a 
man, and, soon the likenesses of the individuals with whom she associated. 
Before the year 1772, she had made herself famous for likenesses in wax, 
in the cities of her native country, and when a widow with three children, 
was enabled to sock more extensive fame, and more splendid fortune in tho 
metropolis of Great Britain. There is ample testimony in the English pe- 
riodicals of the time, that her work was considered of an extraordinary 
kind : and her talent for observation and conversation — for gaining knowl- 
edge and eliciting information, and for communicating her stores, whether 
original or acquired, gained her the attention and friendship of manj' dis- 
tinguished men of the day. As she retained an ardent love for her coun- 
try, and entered into tlie feelings of her injured countrymen during the war 
of the revolution, she used the information she obtained by giving warning 
of the intentions of their enemies, and especially corresponding with Ben- 
jamin Franklin, when he resided in Paris, having becomo intimate with, 

(023^ 



624 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

him ic London. I have before me an engraving pnblishcd in 1765, repre- 
Benting Mrs. Wright at full length in the act of modeling a liiLst of a gen- 
tleman. In the London Magazine of that year, she is styled the Prome- 
thean modeler. In that work it is said, ' In her very infancy she discov- 
ered a striking genius, and began with making faces with new bread and 
putty, to such excellence that she was advised to try her skill in wax.' 
Her likenesses of the King, Queen, Lords Chatham and Temple, Messrs. 
Barro, Wilkes and others, attracted universal admiration. The above 
writer says, ' Her natural abilities are surpassing, and had a liberal and ex- 
tensive education been added to her innate qualities, she had been a pro- 
digy. She has an eye of that quick and brilliant water, that it penetrates 
and darts through the person it looks on ; and practice has made her capa- 
ble of distinguishing the character and dispositions of her visitors, so that she 
is very rarely mistaken, even in the minute point of manners ; much more 
so in the general cast of character.' The only work that I distinctly recol- 
lect of Mrs. Wright's, is the full length of the great Lord Chatham, as it 
stood in Westminster Abbey, in 1784:, inclosed in a glass case. Anecdotes 
are related of the eccentricities of Mrs. Wright. Her manners were not 
those of a courtier. She once had the ear and favor of George the Third, 
but lost it by scolding him for sanctioning the American war. She was in- 
timate with Mr. West and his family; and the beautiful form and face of 
her younger daughter are frequently to be found in his historical composi- 
tions. 

In 17S1, Mrs. Wright went to Paris. Her son, Joseph Wright, followed 
in 1782, and remained in France during part of the year ; and I have be- 
fore me several of Mrs. Wright's letters to him, replete with affection and 
good sense, written after her return to London : and likewise letters to him 
in 1783, written to meet him in America. 

In 1785, Mrs. Wright sent the following characteristic letter to Mr. Jef- 
ferson, then in Paris. 

' London, at the W.ix-Works, Aug. 14, 1785. 

Honored Sin — I had the pleasure to hear that my son, Joseph Wright, 
bad painted tlie best likeness of our Heeo Washington, of any painter in 
America ; and my friends are anxious that I should miake a likeness, a 
bust in wax, to be placed in the state-house, or some public building that 
may be erected by congress. The flattering letters from gentlemen of dis- 
tinguished virtues and rank, and one from that general himself, wherein he 
says, ' he shall think himself happy to have his bust done by Mrs. Wright, 
whose uncommon talents,' etc., make me happy in the prospect of seeing 
him in my own country. 

I most sincerely wish not only to make the likeness of Washington, but 
of tlrose FIVE gentlemen who assisted at the signing of the treaty of peace 
that put an end to so bloody and dreadful a war. The more public the 
honors bestowed on such men by their country, the better. To shame the 
English king, I would go to any trouble and expense to add my mite in the 
stock of honor due to Adams, Jefferson, and others, to send to America; 
and I will, if it is thought proper to pay my expense of traveling to Paris, 
come myself and model the likeness of Mr. Jefferson ; and at the same 
time see the picture, and, if possible by this painting, which is said to be 



OF AMEKICAXS. QOfj 

so like him, make a likeness of the jicnoral. I wish likewise to consult 
with yon, how best we may honor our country, by holding up the like- 
nesses ot" her eminent men, either in painting or wax-work. A statue in 
marble is already ordered, and an artist (Iloudon) gone to Philadelphia to 
begin the work. This is as I wished and hoped.' 

The letter concludes by hinting the danger of sending Washington's pic- 
ture to London, from the enmity of the government, and the espionage of 
the police; which she says has all the 'folly, without the ability of the 
French.' She subscribes herself ' Patience Wright.' In the same year, 
this extraordinary woman died." 

To this account from Dunlap, we annex some amusing facts and anec- 
dotes in regard to her, from the " Memoirs of Elkanah AVatson," who first 
met her in Paris, in 1781. 

"I came oddly in contact with the eccentric Mrs. Wright, on my arrival 
in Paris from Nantes. Giving orders from the balcony of the Hotel 
d'York, to my English servant, I was assailed by a powerful female voice, 
crying out from an upper story : 

' Who arc you ? — an American, I hope !' 

' Yes, madam,' I replied, 'and who are you ?' 

Tn two minutes she came blustering down stairs, with the familiarity of 
an old acquaintance. We were soon on the most excellent terms. I dis- 
covered that she was in the fiabit of daily intercourse with Franklin, and 
was visited and caressed by all the respectable Americans in Paris. The 
wild flights of her powerful mind stamped originality on all her acts and 
language. She was a tall and athletic figure ; walked with a firm, bold 
step, and as erect as an Indian. Tier complexion was somewhat sallow — 
her cheek-hones high — her face furrowed, and her olive eyes keen, piercing 
and expressive. Her sharp glance was appalling; it had almost the wild- 
ness of the maniac. 

The vigor and originality of her conversation corresponded with her ap- 
pearance and manners. She would utter language in her incessant volu- 
bility, as if unconscious to whom directed, that would put her hearers to 
the blush. She apparently possessed the utmost sinTplicity of heart and 
character. 

With the head of wax upon her lap, she would mold the most accurate 
likenesses, by the mere force of a retentive recollection of the traits and 
lines of the countenance ; she would form her likenesses by the manipula- 
tion of the wax with her thumb and finger. While thus engaged, her 
strong mind poured forth an uninterrupted torrent of wild thought, and an- 
dotes and reminiscences of men and events. She wont to London about 
the year 1767, near the period of Franklin's appearance there as the agent 
of Pennsylvania. The peculiarity of her character, and the excellence of 
her wax figures, made her rooms in Pall Mall a fashionable lounging-place 
for the nobility and distinguished men of England. Here her deep pene- 
tration and sagacity, cloaked by her apparent simplicity of purpose, enabled 
her to gather many facts and secrets important to 'dear America' — her 
uniform expression in reference to her native land, which she dearly loved. 

She was a genuine republican and ardent whig. The king and queen 
often visited her rooms : they would induce her to work upon her heads, 



(526 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMEXTS 

regardlf^ss of their presence. She wouhl often, as if forgetting herself, ad- 
dress them as George and Charlotte. Thi.s fact she often mentioned to mo 
herself. While in England, she communicated much important informa- 
tion to Franklin, and remained in London until 1775 or 1776, engaged in 
that Idnd of intercourse with him and the American government, b}- which 
she was placed in positions of extreme hazard. 

I saw her frequently in Paris, in 1781, and in various parts of England, 
from 17S2 to 1784. Her letters followed me in my travels through Eu- 
rope. I had assisted her at Paris ; had extended aid to her son at Nantes, 
and given him a free passage in one of our ships to America. Her grati- 
tude was unbounded. This son was a painter and artist of some emi- 
nence, and in 1784 took a model of Washington's head in plaster. 1 
heard from Washington himself an amusing anecdote connected with this 
bust. In January, 1785, I enjoyed the inestimable privilege of a visit un- 
der his roof, in the absence of all visitors. Among the many interesting 
subjects which engaged our conversation in a long winter evening (the 
roost valuable of my life), in which his dignified lady and Miss Custis 
united, he amused us by relating the incident of the taking of this modeL 
' Wright came to Mt. Vernon,' the general remarked, ' with the singular re- 
quest, that I should permit him to take a model of my face in plaster of 
Paris, to which I consented with some reluctance. lie oiled my features 
over, and placing me flat upon my back, upon a cot, proceeded to daub my 
face with the plaster. While in this ridiculous attitude, Mrs. Washington 
entered the room, and seeing my face thus overspread with the plaster, in- 
voluntarily exclaimed. Iler cry excited in me a disposition to smile, which 
gave my mouth a slight twist, or compression of the lips, that is now ob- 
servable in the busts Wright afterward made.' These are nearly the words 
of Washington. 

Some time after my acquaintance with Mrs. Wright commenced, she in- 
formed me that an eminent female chemist of Paris had written her a 
note, that she would make her a visit at twelve o'clock the next day, and 
announced, also, that she could not speak English. Mrs. Wright desired 
me to act as interpreter. At the appointed hour, the thundering of a car- 
riage in the court-yard announced the arrival of the French lady. She en- 
tered with much grace, in which Mrs. W. was ab match for her. She was 
old, with a sharp nose — with broad patches of vermillion spread over tho 
deep furrows of her cheeks. I was placed in a chair between the two 
originals. Their tongues flew with v<'locity, the one in English and the 
other in French, and neither understanding a word the other uttered. I 
saw no possibility of interpreting two such volleys of words, and at length 
abruptly commanded silence for a moment. 

I asked each, ' Do you under.stand ?' ' Not a word,' said Mrs. Wright. 
'N'importe,' replied the chemist, bounding from her chair in the midst of 
the floor, and dropping a low curtsy — was off. 'What an old painted fool,' 
said Mrs. W., in anger. It was evident that this visit was not intended for 
an interchange of sentimeiit, but a mere act of civility — a call. 

I employed Mrs. W. to make the head of Franklin, which was often the 
source of much amusement to me. After it was completed, both being in- 
vi;>;d to dine with Frard;lin, I conveyed her to Passy in my carriage, she 



OP AMERICANS. C27 

bearing the head v.pon her lap. No sooner in the presence of the doctor, 
than she had placml one head beside the other. 'There !' she exchiimed, 
'are twin brotliers !' The lil^eness was truly admirable, and at the susges- 
tion of" Mrs. Wright, to give it more eQ'ect, Franklin sent me a suit of 
silk clothes ho wore in 1778. Many years afterward, the liead was broken 
in Albany, and tlie clothes I presented to the 'Historical Society of Mas- 
sachusetts.' 

An adventure occurred to Mrs. Wriglit, in connection with this head, 
ludicrous in the highest degree, and although almost incredible, is literally 
true. After the head had been modeled, she walked out to Pussy, carry- 
ing it in a najikin, in order to compare it with the original. In returnin;; 
in the evening, she was stopped at the barrier in course, to be .searched for 
contraband goods ; but as her mind was ,as free as her native American air, 
she knew no restraint, nor the reason why she was detained. She resisted 
the attempt to examine her bundle, and broke out in a rage of fury. The 
ofBcers were amazed, as no explanation, in the absence of an interpreter, 
could take place. She was compelled, however, to yield to power. The 
bundle was opened, and, to the astonishment of the officials, exhibited the 
head of a dead man, as appeared to them in the obscurity of the night. 
They closed the bundle without further examination, believing, as they 
afterward assured me, that she was an escaped maniac, who had committed 
murder, and was about conceahng the head of her victim. 

They were determined to convey her to the police station, when she 
made them comprehend her entreaties to be taken to the Hotel d'York. I 
was in my room, and hearing in the passage a great uproar, and Mrs. W.'s 
voice pitched upon a higher key than usual, I rushed out, and found her 
in a terrible rage, her fine eye flashing. I thrust mj'self between her and 
the officers, exclaiming, 'Au, mon Dieu, qu'est ce qu'el y-a ?' An expla- 
nation ensued. All except Mrs. W. were highly amused at the singularity 
and absurdity of the affair. 

The head and clothes I transmitted to Nantes — they were the instru- 
ments of many frolics, not inappropriate to my youth, but perhaps it is 
hardly safe to advert to them in my age. A few I will venture to relate. 
On my arrival at Nantes, I caused the head to be properly adjusted to the 
dress, which was arranged in a natural shape and dimensions. I had the 
figure placed in the corner of a largo room, near a closet, and behind a 
table. Before him I laid an open atlas, his arm resting upon the table, and 
mathematical instruments strewn upon it. A handkerchief was thrown 
over the arm stumps, wires were extended to the closet, by which means 
the body could be elevated or depressed, and placed in various positions. 
Thus arranged, some ladies and gentlemen were invited to pay their re- 
Bpects to Dr. Fratd<lin, by candlelight. For a moment, they were com- 
pletely deceived, and all jirofoundly bowed and curtsied, which was recip- 
rocated by the figure. Not a word being uttered, the trick was soon re- 
vealed. 

A report soon circulated that Doctor Fraiddin was at Monsieur Watson's 
'sour I'Isle <le Prydeau.' At eleven o'clock the next morning, the mayor 
of Nantes came in full dress, to call on the renowned jihilosoplier. Cos- 
foul. mv wortbv partner, being acquainted with the mavor, favored the 



C28 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

joke, for ,i moment after their mutual salutations. Others came in, and all 
were disposed to gull their friends in the same manner. 

The most amusing of all the incidents connected with this head, occur- 
red in London, where I had sent it after the peace of 17S3, when I had 
established a bachelor's hall in that city. I placed the figure, in full -Ircss, 
with the head leaning out of the window, apparently gazing up and dtwn 
the square. He had formerly been well laiown in that part of the city, 
and was at once recognized. Observing a collection of people gathering at 
another window looking at him, I ordered him down. 

The morning papers announced the arrival of Doctor Franldin at an 
American merchant's in Beliter square, and I found it necessary to contra- 
dict the report. In the interval, three Boston gentlemen who were in the 
city, expressed a wish to pay their respects to the doctor. I desired tliem 
to call in the evening, and bring their letters of introduction, which they 
informed mo they bore, expecting to .see him at Paris. I conc^ted mea- 
sures with a friend, to carry the harmless deception to the utmost extent 
on this occasion. Before entering, I apprised them that he was deeply en- 
gaged in examining maps and papers, and begged they would not be dis- 
turbed at any apparent inattention. Thus prepared, I conducted them into 
a spacious room. Franklin was seated at the extreraitj', with the atlas, etc., 
and my friend at the wires. I advanced in succession with each, half 
across the room, and introduced them by name. Franklin raised his head, 
bowed, and resumed his attention to the atlas. I then retired, and seated 
them at the farther side of the room. They spoke to me in whispers ; 

' What a venerable figure,' exclaims one. 

'Why don't he speak ?' says another. 

'He is doubtless in a reverie,' I remarked, 'and has forgotten the pres- 
ence of his company ; his great age must be his apology. Get your letters, 
and go up again with me to him.' 

When near the table, I said, 'Mr. B., sir, from Boston.' The head 
raised up. 

'A letter,' says B., ' from Doctor Cooper.' 

I could go no further. The scene was too ludicrous. As B. held out 
the letter, I struck the figure smartly, exclaiming : 

'Why don't 3'ou receive the letter like a gentleman ?' 

They were all petrified with astonishment, but B. never forgave me the 
joke." 

ADVENTURES OF WATSON. 

In the preceding sketch, we have made an extr.ict from the journal of 
Blkan.ah Watson, which work is entitled "Men and Times of the Ameri- 
can Revolution," .and is full of interesting incidents of adventure, both in 
Europe and America. A relation of a few of those within his experience 
while abroad, come well within our scope. Watson was a native of Ply- 
mouth, Massachusetts, and, in the latter part of our revolution, when ho 
was twenty-one years of age, went to Europe, where he was for several 
years engaged in mercantile operations. During this period, he was on 
intimate terms with Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and ether of the 
most eminent of his countrymen. 

Watson sailed for France in 1770, in a small, swift-moving packet, con- 



OF AMERICANS. 629 

striictcd for the purpose of transmitting dispatclies, and in twenty-nino 
days arrived at St. Martin, the port of Rochelle. Everything was new and 
strange to liim — the clattering of wooden shoes along the pavement; the 
young ladies astride of mules ; the appeals of beggars at every corner, and 
the noveltj' of the language and customs. His party were alike objects of 
curiosity. They were followed around the town by the boys, gazed at by 
the crowd, while the words, "there go the brave Bostonians," continually 
reached their ears. As the war commenced in Boston, the tc^m Bostoniai.s 
was popularly given in France to the whigs of the Kevolution. 

From Rochelle, Mr. Watson proceeded to Paris, and there called upon 
Dr. Franklin, with his dispatches. It gave him exquisite pleasure to meet 
this great man, whose name had been so familiar to him from his cradle. 
" The ensuing day," says Watson, " I returned to Passy, to dine by invita- 
tion, with Dr. Franklin. At the hour of dinner, he conducted me across a 
spacious garden of several acres, to the princely residence of M. Le Ray da 
Chaumont. This was the first occasion of my dining in a private circle in 
Europe, and being still in my American style of dress, and ignorant of the 
French language, and prepared for extreme ceremony, I felt exceedingly 
embarrassed. 

We entered a spacious room, I following the doctor, where several well- 
dressed persons (to my unsophisticated eyes, gentlemen) bowed to us pro- 
foundly. These were servants. A folding door opened at our approach, 
and presented to my view a brilliant assembly, who all greeted the wise 
old man in the most cordial and affectionate manner. He introduced me 
as a young American just arrived. One of the young ladies approached 
him with the familiarity of a daughter, tapped him kindly on the cheek, 
and called him 'Pa-pa Franklin.' 

I was enraptured with the ease and freedom exhibited in the table in- 
tercourse in France. Instead of the cold ceremony and formal compli- 
ments, to which I had been accustomed on such occasions, here all ap- 
peared at case, and well sustained. Some were amusing themselves with 
music, others in singing ; some were waltzing, and others gathered in little 
groups in conversation. At the table, the ladies and gentlemen were min- 
gled together, and joined in cheerful conversation, each selecting the deli- 
cacies of v.arious courses, and drinking of delicious light wines, but with 
neither toasts nor healths. 

The lady of the house, instead of bearing the burden and inconvenience 
of superintending the duties of the table, here participates alike with others 
in its enjoj-ment. Xo gentlemen, I was told, would be tolerated in France, 
in monopolizing the conversation of the table, in discussions of politics or 
religion, as is frequently the case in America. A cup of coffee ordinarily 
terminates the dinner." 

On visiting the paintings in the Louvre, he was greatly pleased to find 
the portrait of Franklin honored, and, by the royal orders in being, hung 
near those of the king and queen. Ilis popularity and influence at court 
were almost unprecedented, and he was so much venerated by the people, 
that Watson often saw the people following his carriage just as they had 
the king's. " His venerable figure, the ease of his manners, formed in an 
intercourse of fifty years with the world, his benevolent countenance, and 



630 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEYEMEXTS 

his fame as a philosopher, all tendoJ to excite love and to command inllii- 
once and respect." He was an especial favorite of the queen, and through 
the strong political influence she held, adroitly directed by him, the gov- 
ernment was led to acknowledge our independence, and to aid us in the 
struggle with fleets and armies. 

The winter of 1780-'81, Watson spent in Rennes, and being the first of 
his countrymen ever seen there, the public curiositj' in regard to him was 
very great, for most people had an idea that an American must be an Indi- 
an. The French, at that time, were very ignorant about our country and 
people. The first night AVatson arrived at Ancinis, he retired without 
having first seen the professors. The students, learning that an American 
had arrived, entered his room in the morning, and thinking he was asleep, 
carefully turned aside the curtain of his bed, with the expectation of see- 
ing an Indian ! Watson's object in passing a winter at Rennes, was to per- 
fect himself in French, the language being spoken there with remarkable 
purity, and also to rub off a little of his American rust, by contact with the 
elegant society of that gay city. In the spring he returned to ISTantes, 
where he had established a mercantile house. At that time the notorious 
Tom Paine arrived at that jilace, and boarded at the same house with Wat- 
son, lie came in the capacity of secretary to Colonel Laurens, Minister 
Extraordinary from Congress. His manners and person were coarse, un- 
couth and loathsome. He was eternally either talking of himself or read- 
ing his own compositions. "Yet," says Watson, "I could not repress the 
deepest emotions of gratitude toward him, as the instrument of Providence 
in accelerating the Declaration of our Independence. He certainly was a 
prominent agent in preparing the public sentiment of America for that glo- 
rious event. The idea of Independence had not occupied the popular 
mind, and when guardedly approached on the subject, it shrunk from the 
conception, as fraught with doubt, with peril, and with suffering. 

In 1776, I was present, at Providence, Rhode Island, in a social assembly 
of the most prominent leaders of the State. I recollect that the subject of 
Independence was cautiously introduced by an ardent whig, and the thought 
seemed to excite the abhorrence of the whole circle. 

A few weeks later, Paine's Common Sense appeared, and passed through 
the continent like at electric spark. It everywhere flashed conviction, and 
aroused a determined spirit, which resulted in the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence, upon the 4th of July ensuing. The name of Paine was precious to 
every whig heart, and had resounded throughout Europe. 

On his arrival being announced, the mayor and some of the most dis- 
tinguished citizens of Nantes, called upon him to render their homage of 
respect. 1 often officiated as interpreter, although humbled and mortified 
at his filthy appearance and awkward and unseemly address. Besides, 33 
he had been roasted alive on his arrival at L'Orieut, for the * * * * 
and well basted with brimstone, ho was absolutely offensive, and perfumed 
the whole apartment. He was soon rid of his respectable visitors, who left 
the room with marks of astonishment and disgust. I took the liberty, on 
his asking for the loan of a clean shirt, of speaking to him frankly of his 
dirty appearance and brimstone odor, and prevailed upon him to stew fur 
an hour, in a hot bath. This, however, was not done without much 



OF AMEUIOAXS. 631 

entreaty, and I did not succeed until, receiving n. file of Englisli newspa- 
pers, I promised, after he was in the bath, ho shouhl have the reading of 
thcni, and not before. lie at once consented, and accompanied me to the 
bath, where I instructed the keeper in French (which Paine did not under- 
stand) to gradually increase the heat of the water, until 'le Monsieur etait 
bieu bouilli.' He became so much absorbed in his reading that he was 
nearly par-bo'led before 'eav'ug the bath, much to bis '.mprovompnt and my 
satisfaction. 

One of the most critical and remarkable events of my life occurred at 
this period. The Marshal de Castries, the Minister of Marine, was passing 
through Kantes, on his way to Brest, for the purpose of dispatching the 
Count de Grasse with the fleet, which subsequently acted with so much 
efficiency against Cornvvallis. 

Half the population of the city, prompted by their curiosity, poured in a 
torrent beyond the gates, to meet the marshal and his retinue. I threw 
myself into this living current. As soon as the ' avant courier' appeared 
in the distance, the immense crowd p.araded on either side of the road. At 
the moment the minister and his retinue approached, a little bell tinkled on 
the opposite side, in directing the passage of the 'Bon Dieu,' inclosed in a 
silver vase, and held by a Catholic priest, on his way to administer the Sa- 
crament to a dying believer. The bell was held by a small boy, wdio pre- 
ceded the sacred procession ; four men supported a canopy over the priest's 
head, and forty or fifty stupid peasants, in wooden shoes, followed. Cus- 
tom obliged all to kneel, as this venerated ' Bon Dieu ' passed by ; but on 
this occasion, most of the spectator.^, owing to the deep mud, leaned on 
their canes, with hats in their hand.s, in a respectful posture. The couriers 
checked their horses — the carriages stopped, and all were thrown into con- 
fusion by the unfortunate presence of the 'Bon Dieu.' At this moment 
the priest, as if impelled by the spirit of malice, halted the procession, and 
stopped the host directly in front of the place where I stood, and to my 
utter amazement, pointing directly at me with his finger, exclaimed, 'aux 
genoiix' — to your knees. I pointed in vain to the mud, and the position 
of those about mc similar to my own. He again repeated, in a voice of 
thunder, 'aux genoux.' My Yankee blood flamed at this wanton attack, 
I forgot myself, and, with a loud voice, re])lied in French, 'no, sir, I will 
not.' The populace, thunderstruck to see their 'Bon Dieu' thus insulted, 
fired with enthusiasm, broke their ranks, and were pressing toward mc, 
with violent imprecations. A German gentleman, an acquaintance, and 
then at my side, exclaimed, 'for God's sake, drop in an instant.' Alarmed 
at my critical situation, I reluctantly settled my knees into a mud-hole. 
Every one within my hearing who were respectable. Catholics and Protes- 
tants, condemned the rash and inexcusable conduct of the priest. 

My keenest sensibilities were outraged, and I vowed vengeance upoTi the 
audacious priest. The next afternoon, I set off, armed with a good liickory, 
to trace out his residence, and to effect my determination. I proceeded to 
the spot where the offense had been committed, entered the hut of a pea- 
sant, and inquired the name of the priest who, the d.iy before, h.ad passed 
with the 'Bon Dieu.' He replied, 'Ma foi, oui, ce Monsieur Barage ' — yes, 
faith, it is M. Barage. He pointed to the steeple of the church where ho 



C32 ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

officiated, near the suburbs of the city. I soon found his house, and pulled 
a bell-rope. A good-looking, middle-aged woman, the housekeeper, soon 
appeared. Contrary to her interdiction, I sprung into the court-yard, and 
pi-oceeded directly to the house, and made my way to his library. The 
pri-est soon appeared, demanded my business, exclaiming ' that I was a mur- 
derer or robber,' and ordered me to quit his house. I sprung to the door, 
locked it, and placing the key in my pocket, approached him in a hostile 
attitude. I compelled him to admit that he recognized my features. I 
then poured forth my detestation of him, and of the tyrannj' of the French 
clergy. I told him I was a native of North America, the ally of France ; 
that I w.as under the protection of Dr. Franklin, and would not leave him 
until I had received adequate remuneration for the unprovoked insult I had 
received. In a word, I insisted on his apologizing to me, in the same pos- 
ture in which I had been placed. In taking my leave, I assured him I 
should proceed with the American consul, and enter my formal complaint 
against him to the bishop. This threat alarmed him, and he fervently 
urged my forbearance. I weni, however, immediately to our consul, Col. 
Williams, and communicated In him Ihcse incidents. He apprised me of 
the extreme danger I should be subjected to from the hostility of the 
priests, and admonished mo, as the safest course, to prosecute the affair no 
further. Cy his advice, and that of Tom Paine, I changed m}^ lodging,';, 
and for two or three weeks avoided the streets. No further unpleasant 
consequence resulted from this occurrence." 

AVhile at Nantes, AVatson became acquainted with an American, one of 
those intrepid adventurers of which our countrj' has been so prolific. His 
history, if it could be fully given, would be a volume of rare attractiveness. 
This personage was Louis Littlepage, a native of Hanover County, Va. He 
went to Europe in 1780, under the patronage of Mr. Jay, our Minister at 
the Court of Spain. He was at the time a mere youth, but made every- 
where a strong impression, from his extraordinary genius and acquirements, 
and from his noble, commanding figure, set off by dark sparkling eyes and 
a striking physiognomy. He eventually left the service of Mr. Jay, and 
acted as volunteer aid to the Duke de Ciellon at the siege of Minorca. He 
was blown up with a floating battery at the attack on Gibraltar, but was 
saved. Throughout the siege ho was conspicuous. Later, he was on the 
flag-ship of the Spanish admiral, and, in the midst of a hotly-contested 
battle, deliberately sketched the positions of the vessels of the respective 
fleets. This sketch, which was a masterly view of the action, he subse- 
quently showed to the Spanish Minister, and he was greeted with great 
honor at the Spanish Court. He cventuall}' found his way to Poland, and 
liecame in effect prime minister to the king. On being sent as the Polish 
ambassador to St. Petersburg, ho evinced signal ability, and won the friend- 
ship of the Empress Catharine. AVhen Poland fell, he returned to his na- 
tive land, and died in Fredericksburg, Va. A severe controversy arose be- 
tween him and Mr. Jay, in consequence of his refusing to refund money 
loaned him by that eminent patriot, and he attacked Mr. Jay in a pamphlet 
that evinced alike the genius and the bitterness of a .Junius. 

In the fall of 1781, AVatson made the tour of Northern France and the 
Netherlands. On his return, he dined and passed an evening with Franklin 



OF AMERICANS. 633 

in Paris. Ilis long and familiar intercourse with the most refined people 
in his own country and in Europe, had given him an ease of manner that 
was heightened liy a natural grace. His venerable locks, hanging in masses 
over his shoulders, and his dignified presence, while it excited reverence, 
were united to such kindly fascinating manners, as to make all within his 
circle feel at home. He asked Watson if he was aware tliat ho was a mu- 
sician, and then conducted him to the oppo.site side of the apartment to 
show him the harmonica, a musical instrument he had invented, composed 
of round glasses arranged in such a manner as when played upon to give 
forth sounds of remarkable sweetness. He performed some Scotch airs for 
the amusement of his guest, with considerable skill. 

Among the topics of the conversation of the evening, was the great and 
absorbing subject of the union of the French and American forces against 
Coruwallis. From their latest information, matters appeared in a very crit- 
ical condition, and it was found that the British fleet might succeed in 
landing an army in Virginia, and defeat and ruin the plans of Washington. 
Even Franklin's philosophy and self-possession seemed .■ioroly lri(jd as alter- 
nations of hope and fear successively afi'ected his mind ; yet ho was con- 
vinced that the genius of Washington woald triumph over all obstacles. 
Watson left deeply depressed by fears of the result to his suffering countrj-. 
A messenger from Franklin the next morning aroused him by a thundering 
rap at his door. He handed liim a circular, which filled him with unspeak- 
able thankfulness, for it contained the glorious tidings of the surrender of 
Cornwallis. In company with many French and American gentlemen, he 
called upon Franklin, to congratulate him upon this great event. He found 
him in an ecstasy of joy : "There is," observed Franklin, "no parallel in 
history of two entire armies being captured from the same enemy in any 
one war." The whole population of Paris was wild with delight. And 
not only Paris, but all the cities of France were illuminated by their re- 
joicing citizens. 

Mr. Watson's mercantile enterprise was for a time highly prosperous, and 
his purse was freely opened to the aid of friends at home, and to the relief 
of his countrymen imprisoned in England, several of whom, through him, 
effected their escape. 

As negotiations were now in progress in Paris for terminating the war, 
Watson determined, if possible, to visit England, the land of'his forefalhors. 
Packets having been started between Dover and Calais, to facilitate nego- 
tiations, he thought he would be enabled to cross by their means. Doctor 
Franklin suggested, in the most friendly manner, that it would be attended 
with danger for him, a known rebel, to visit an enemy's country. He how- 
ever gave in to Watson's persuasions, prepared a passport for him, and let- 
ters to several distinguished political and scientific characters. 

Landing on British soil, Watson felt under some apprehension ; yet lie 
could not but exult at the tliought of how finely liis countrymen had 
avenged themselves for their wrongs, by many glorious victories, and by 
crippling England's commerce even to her very shores. 

The first person he called upon, in London, was the Duke of Manches- 
ter, whose elegant person and dignified manners marked the high-bred 
noblemsn. From his lips, Wafson first learned tliat the British government 



G3-1 ADVENTURES AND ACIIIEVEMKNTS 

had concUuleJ to acknowledge the independence of the Colonies. A letter 
from Franklin introduced Watson to the celebrated philosopher and divine, 
Dr. Price. This gentleman was a zealous advocate of civil liberty. He 
was highly esteemed in the United States for his very able writings in be- 
half of the American cause. These were published early in the war, and 
liad a wonderful influence in England. jA friend, in presence of Watson, 
delicately complimented him on bis great reputation as a man of learning, 
and on the immense benefit he had been to our country by his publications. 
His reply showed the wise man: "However I maybe esteemed among 
men, I have lived long enough to learn that I know nothing." 

Watson concluded to remain in England until December, at which time 
the king was to acknowledge the independence of the United States on the 
opening of parliament. In the meantime he occupied himself in traveling 
through some of the most interesting parts of the country. When in Bir- 
mingham, he was amused at this sentence in the prayer of the clergyman : 
" Lord ! turn the hearts of our rebellious subjects in America." He 
says, however, that during his progress through England, he was astonished 
at finding that the people in some localities appeared generally to sympa- 
thize with the Americans in their struggle for libert}', and advocated their 
cause with most cogent and strenuous arguments. He spent one evening 
with a party of English gentlemen, and so strong was the interest mani- 
fested, that it made him feel as if he were back among his rebel friends in 
America. In other localities, on the other hand, the people were invete- 
rately hostile. 

On one occasion, passing by an English farm-house, he was induced to 
enter by the lively sounds of a violin. He found a collection of country 
folks, lads and lassies, in the midst of a dancing frolic. Aside from their 
dialect, it almost seemed to him as if he were among his own countrv peo- 
ple, yet he says that one Yankee had more mother- wit than half of them 
combined. The common people showed great ignorance in regard to Amer- 
ica and Americans. Many of them thought we were a nation of Indians 
negroes, and mixed blood. He overheard this conversation while in a 
stage-coach near London, between two genteelly-dressed ladies. One said 
to the other : "I h.ave seen a wonderful sight — a little girl born in a place 
called Boston, in North America, and what is very astonishing, but I pledge 
you my word it is true, she speaks English as well as any child in En^'laud 
and beside ?he is perfectly white." " Is it possible I" exclaimed the other, 
in tones of genuine surprise. 

Watson had returned to London on the eventful 5th of December, 1782, 
the day on which the king was to announce to parliament the independence 
of America. Early in the morning the Earl of Ferrers led him into the 
House of Lords, and at the entrance whispered to him — "Get as near the 
tlirone as you can — fear nothing.-' He elbowed his way in until he was 
exactl}' in front of it. The lords were standing around in groups, among 
whom, and close by him, was the celebrated Admiral Lord Howe. The 
distinguished American painters, Copley and West, were there, accompa- 
nied by some American ladies. A few dejected American tories, too, were 
to be seen in the crowd. The day was foggy and lowering, and this, with 
the dark tapestry of the walls, gave a gloomy air to all within. After a 



OF AMERICANS. 635 

delay of two hours, loud discharges of artillery told them the king was 
approaching. Attired in royal robes, and with all the insignia of mon- 
archy, he came in a small side door, and gracefully placed himself in the 
chair of state. The House of Commons having been notified, soon en- 
tered. When all was still, the king, much agitated, took liis spceeli, writ- 
ten on a, scroll, from his pocket, and commenced reading it. Being only a 
few yards di.-^tauf, Watson watched with interest every tone of his voice 
and every emotion of his conntenance. As the king proceeded, Watson 
felt every nerve quiver and thrill with lofty patriotic emotion. Having ut- 
tered a few introductory sentences, ho went on to say : 

"I left no time in giving the necessary orders to prohibit the further j)ro- 
ecculion of offensive war upon the continent of North America. Adoj)t- 
ing, as my inclination will always lead me to do, with decision and efi'ect, 
whatever I collect to be the sense of my parliament and my people, I have 
pointed all my views and measures, in Europe, as in North America, to an 
entire and cordial reconciliation with the colonies. Finding it indisjiensa- 
ble to the attainment of this object, I did not hesitate to go to the full 
length of the powers vested in me, and offer to declare them — " Here he 
paused, and was in evident agitation ; either embarrassed in reading his 
speech, by the darkness of the room, or affected by a very natukal emo- 
tion. In a moment he resumed : — "And offer to declare them free anu 
INDEPENDENT STATES. In thus admitting their separation from the crown 
of these kingdoms, I have sacrificed every consideration of my own to the 
■wishes and opinions of my people. I make it my humble and ardent 
prayer to Almighty God, that Great Britain m.ay not feel the evils which 
might result from so great a dismemberment of the empire, and that Amer- 
ica may be free from the calamities which have formerly proved, in the 
mother country, bow essential monarchy is to the enjoyment of constitu- 
tional liberty. Religion, language, interests, and affection may, and I hope 
will, yet prove a bond of permanent union between the two countries." 

" It is remarked, that George III is celebrated for reading his speeches 
in a distinct, free, and impressive manner. On this occasion he was evi- 
dently embarrassed; he hesitated, choked, and executed the painful duties 
required of him, with an ill grace that did not belong to him. I cannot 
adequately portray my sensations, in the progress of this address ; every 
artery beat high, and swelled with my proud American blood. In leav- 
ing the house, I jostled Copley and West, who, I thought, were enjoying 
the rich political repast of the day, .and noticing the anguish and despair 
depicted on the long visages of our American tories." 

A few days before Copley had painted a splendid portrait of Walson. 
In the background was a view of a ship conveying to America the glail 
tidings of the recognition of her independence, with the sfar-spang'.ed 
banner, illuminated by the light of a rising sun, streaming proudly from 
aloft. It was all finished excepting the flag. As his gallery was continu- 
ally visited, by the royal family and the nobility, the artist deferred painting 
it until a more proper sea.son. After listing to the king's speech, Watson 
accompanied Copley to his house to dine. Soon as they had entered, ho 
took him into his studio, "and then," says Watson, "with a bold hand, a 
master's touch, and I believe an American heart, he attached to the ship the 



636 ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 

Btars and stripes. This I believe was the fiist Aiuericaii Aug over hoisted in 
old England." 

On his return to France, Watson showed Franklin an English paper with 
a full account of his death and burial. The Doctor was exceedingly amused 
and told Watson that it was the third time that he had been buried alive by 
the London newspapers. Watson saw Franklin for the last time, in 1786. lie 
was then eighty years of age. " On my first entering the room," Mr. Watson 
says, "he observed that all his old friends were dead, and he fouiid himself 
alone, in the midst of a new generation, and added the remark, alike char- 
acteristic of the man and the philosopher, 'he was in their way, and it was 
time he was oft" the stage.' Yet he delighted a circle of young people (for 
he was a most instructive companion to youth in his old age), the whole 
evening, with pleasant anecdote and interesting stories. His voice uas very 
sonorous and clear, but at the same time hollow and peculiar." 

In August 1784, Watson embarked in the ship George Washington on his 
return to America, having been absent five years. The master. Captain 
Smith, Watson had known in his boyhood. He was an intelligent, sensible 
man, yet from an anecdote Watson relates it seems not devoid of that sin- 
gular superstition so common to seamen. 

He noticed that the cook was accustomed to carry the egg shells to decki 
and scrupulously break them into little bits before he cast them overboard. 
Watson made up his mind to ascertain tlie meaning of this singular super- 
stition, so one time watching his opportunity, he caught up the bowl with 
the shells, and emptied them into the sea unbroken. The cook started 
after and brought along the captain who in a towering passion, fell to abusing 
Watson for his temerity. He swore that he had l/Ccn to sea fort}' years, and 
never had known egg shells thrown whole into the sea, but that old bitchi 
Mother Carey, got into them arid raised a g.ile of wind. To reason with him 
Watson knew was idle, and to ridicule such folly dangerous. A night or so 
after, he was summoned to the deck by unusual voices and the pitching of 
the vessel, where he found a tremendous hurricane coming on ; vivid flashes 
of lightning shot across the sky ; the ocean began to swell iu angry waves 
and the wind to whistle through the rigging with wild, appalling sounds. 
The captain, as he caught a glimpse of him, exclaimed, " There ! did'nt I 
tell you so !" Thanks to a tight ship and a skillful commander, the ship 
rode out the gale, though the event doubtless tended to confirm the opin- 
ion of the skipper and his crew in the peril of throwing overboard unbroken 
egg shells. 

On the 3d of October, the cry of "Land " rang through the ship, and in 
a few hours she was plowing among the beautiful islands of Narraganset 
Bay. Viewing the landscape with a comparatively foreign eye, the sky was 
to him more clear and blue, the stars more bright and numerous, the fields 
of corn more broad and the forests more expanded, than in the Old World 
he had left behind. At ten o'clock at night, Watson was put ashore and 
entered the spacious yard of a respectable farm-house. As he knocked at 
the door, the old, familiar invitation, " Walk in," pleasantly greeted his 
his ear. A momentary flash, as he obeyed the invitation, revealed the 
figure of an old man with distended cheeks, blowing up a light with a coal. 
The flame lit the candle, th.en, turning to look at his guest, he exclaimed. 



OF AMERICANS. C37 

" Sit down, sit down, my friend — where from ?" 

"London," was the replr ; "and I wish a horse to proceed to Prov- 
idence." 

"It is too hite," he responded; "to-night you are welcome to a bed 
with us." 

Watson accepted this kind offer, and joined the hospilahlo farmer in a 
pipe by his fireside. The latter, in the meantime, poured forth a continual 
stream of questions, in which his good wife, who had retired to a bed in 
the corner, soon united. The old lady regretted, as hospitable old ladies 
are ever apt to on such occasions, that she could not get him a warm sup- 
per ; b'ut baked apples, cool milk, rye and Indian bread were furnished in 
ample quantities, and their delicious tiisto reminded him of old times. Ho 
retired for the night in the best room, a spacious apartment with everything 
"neat as wax." As his form pressed upon a most comfortable bed, he 
could but mentally ejaculate, "These are the blessings of an independent 
American farmer !" 

In the gray of the morning, the whole of the family were up and stir- 
ring around discharging their respective duties. Watson arose, also, and 
threw aside the paper curtains. The sight of a beautiful, well-cultivated 
farm, a barn-yard with noble cows, which the boys and women were busy 
milking, excited most pleasurable feelings. Soon entering the yard, Wat- 
son grasped his generous host by the hand, and began to tell him how 
much he was gratified by his surroundings. 

"0 yes; I have a fine farm, well stocked, and owe nothing — but these 
horrible taxes are devouring a poor farmer." 

" Pray, sir," inquired Watson, " how much taxes do you pay in a year ?" 

" About thirty dollars ; and before the war they did not exceed three 
d jllars." 

"Is it possible so small a burden can give so much uneasiness. You are 
now, for thirty dollars annually, in the enjoyment of the blessings of liberty 
and independence. You know not how to prize the great privilege. Can 
you so soon have forgotten the common language during the Revolution, 'I 
will sacrifice half my property to secure the rest.' I wish, it had been pos- 
sible for every farmer in the nation to have passed over the ground I have 
traversed the last five years in Europe, and witnessed the sufl'ering and op- 
pression I have seen among the farmers there, governed at the point of the 
b.ayonet, and oven in England, overwhelmed by taxes, tithes, and rents. 
They would kiss the soil of America, and call it blessed, and raise their 
hearts in jjious gratitude to the Giver of all good." 

This lesson did the farmer much good, and eased his mind. Watson 
wished he could have uttered it in the presence of every discontented citi- 
zen of the republic. The same cry is heard too often in our day, from 
multitudes who possess everything to make them happy ; but who, instead, 
appear to study how the most efl'ectually to make themselves miserable. 

We have somewhat departed from our text in presenting these few inci- 
dents of Watson in his home land. We will take another and a hist step 
in the same direction, by giving his account of a visit he made to Mt. Ver- 
non, the home of Washington. 

"I had feasted my imagination for several days on the near prospect of a 



638 ADVKNTtTRES AND ACIHEVEMEXTS 

?isit Mt. Vemon, the seat of Washiugton. Ino pilgrim ever approaclied 
Mecca with a deeper enthusiasm. I arrived there in the afteriioon of 
January 23, 1785. I was the bearer of a letter from Gen. Green, wiih 
another from Col. Fitzgerald, one of the former aids of Washington, and 
also boolis from Granville Sharp. Although assured that these credentials 
would secure me a respectful reception, I trembled with awe as I came into 
the pre.'sence of this great man, I found him at the table with Mrs. Wash- 
ington and his private family, and was received in the native dignity and 
with that urbanity so peculiarly combined in the character of a soldier and 
eminent private gentleman. He soon put me at ease, by unbending in a 
free and affable conversation. 

The cautious reserve, which wisdom and policy dictated, while engaged 
in rearing the glorious fabric of our independence, was evidently the result 
of consummate prudence, and not characteristic of his nature. Although I 
had frequently seen him in the progress of the Revolution, and had corres- 
ponded with him from France in 1781-'82, this was the first occasion on 
which I had contemplated him in his private relations. I observed a pecu- 
liarity in his smile, which seemed to illuminate his eye ; his whole coun- 
tenance beamed with intelligence, while it commanded confidence and re- 
spect. The gentleman who had accompanied mc from Alexandria, left in 
the evening, and I remained alone in the enjoyment of the society of Wash- 
ington, for two of the richest days of my life. I saw him reaping the re- 
ward of his beloved retirement. He was at the matured age of fifty-three. 
Alexander and Caisar both died before they reached that period of life, and 
both had immortalized their names. How much stronger and nobler the 
claims of Washington to immortality! In the impulses of mad and selfish 
ambition, they acquired fame by wading to the conquest of the world through 
seas of blood. Washington, on the contrary, was parsimonious of the blood 
of his countrymen, and stood forth, the pure and virtuous champion of their 
rights, and formed for them (not himself) a mighty empire. 

To have communed with such a man in the bosom of his family, I shall 
always regard as one of the highest privilege.?, and one of the most cher- 
ished incidents of my life. I found him kind and benignant in the do- 
mestic circle, revered and beloved by all around him ; agreeably social, 
without ostentation ; delighting in anecdote and adventure, without assump- 
tion ; his domestic arrangements harmonious and systematic. His serv.anfs 
seemed to watch his eye, and to anticipate his every wish ; hence a look 
was equivalent to a command. His servant, Billy, the faithful companion 
of his military career, was always at his side. Smiling content beamed on 
every countenance in his presence. 

He modestly waived all allusions to the events in which he had acted so 
glorious and conspicuous a part. Much of his conversation had refereneo 
to the opening of the navigation of the Potomac, by canals and locks, at 
the Seneca, the Great and Little Falls. His mind appeared to be deeply 
absorbed by that object, then in earnest contemplation. 

The first evening I spent under the wing of his hospitality, we set a full 
hour at table by ourselves, without the least interruption, after the family 
had retired. I was extremely oppressed by a severe cold and excessive 
coughing, contracted by the exposure of a harsh winter journey. He 



OF AMEEICANS. 639 

pressed me to use some remedies, but I declined doing so. As usual, after 
retiring, my cougliing increased. When some time had elapsed, the door 
of my room was gently opened, and, on drawing my bed-curtains, I beheld 
Washington himself staniling at my bedside, with a bowl of hot tea in his 
hand. I was mortified and distressed beyond expression. This little in- 
cident, occurring in common life with an ordinary man, would not have 
been noticed ; but as a trait of the benevolence and private virtue of Wash- 
ington, deserves to be recorded." 

AMEEICANS IN RUSSIA. 

Americans are rather favorites in Russia, and our people sympathise with 
the progressive spirit that marks the present history of the Russians, for 
nothing gives Jonathan greater pleasure than to see folks "go ahead." The 
Emperor Nicholas once said, to an American minister at his court, "Amer- 
ica and Russia are the only two genuine governments among civilized na- 
tions — yours is a genuine republic, and mine a genuine monarchy ; the rest 
are mongrek." Both governments appear to be progressing in the right di- 
rection. We have got out of leading strings and manage for ourselves; 
while, in Russia, the emperor holding all power, with a true paternal care, 
seems to be trying to bring the people up to a point where they can like- 
wise in time go alone. 

Some twelve years since, when the Emperor Nicholas was at the height 
of his power, Mr. J. S. Maxwell, of Xew York, visited Russia, and in his 
published travels gives .in amusing account of our enterprising countrymen 
in that distant land. lie had been out to visit the Imperial Farming Insti- 
tution, which is in the vicinity of St. Petersburg, and, after having visited 
if, thus continues : 

"One of the most amusing incidents attending our visit to this institu- 
tion, was to find there an American, who had but lately arrived in the 
country. He spoke nothing but English, and could hold no communication 
whatever with those around him, except through the medium of signs and 
gestures. lie was a tall thin man, with a thoughtful countenance. He 
had brought with him a number of improved instruments of agriculture, 
such as never were seen before in Russia. He displayed in a practical light 
the advantages of these Yankee contrivances. He found the pupils of the 
farming institution reaping wheat wilh the old-fashioned sickle, mowing 
with a short scythe attached to a ten-foot pole, and plowing iu every way 
but the right one. He perfectly astonished the natives with his long 
straight furrows, his clean-out sward, and his gigantic strides wdth the mys- 
terious cradle. One blustering day, he saw the scholars cle.aniiig grain, by 
throwing it up in the wind, which carried off the dust and chaff, while the 
grain fell to the ground. Our countryman did not like this antiquated pro- 
cess, and constructed a winnowing mill, out of such materials, and wilh 
such tools as happened to be at hand. It worked beautifully, and the 
maker was regarded by the young barbarians with the most profound ro- 
spect. This very useful and estimable person afterward had an interview 
with 'he minister of the interior, who ]ircsides over this institution, and it 
was rumored that he was about to be elevated to a professorship in the col- 
lege of husbandry. He did not, however, long remain in the country, and 



G40 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

was rewarded for his services by being elected an honorary member of Ihe 
Imperial Society for the rmproveraeiit of Agriculture. 

The foundry of Aloxandroffsky, near the gates of St, Petersburg, is now 
in the jsossession and under the control of American mechanics, in the em- 
ploy of the government. Some account of the settlement and succe.ss of 
the Americans at Alexandroffsky may be interesting. Some time in 1840, 
the Emperor Nicholas assembled his councillors, and requested their opin 
ions as to the feasibility of a railway from St. Petersburg to Moscow. It 
was opposed by all, except Count Kleinmichel, the minister of ways and 
communications. The emperor, however, had determined to make the 
road before he asked advice. He surmised that the council merely op- 
posed his views, that he might be gratified with the apparent illiberality of 
his ministers, and thus be pleased with the idea of his own merit and his 
own power, as the sole benefactor of his country. 

After due consideration, it was concluded that railroads, as the}' are con- 
structed in the United States, were the best adapted for the empire, and 
George W. Whistler, an American gentleman of distinguished ability in his 
profession, was invited to visit Russia, and superintend the making of the 
proposed road. A better selection could not have been made. The diffi- 
culties, which would have discouraged most men in such a country and 
among such a people at the outset of such an undertaking, vanished before 
his unoqu.aled industry, knowledge and tact. Intrigue and envy fell befoM 
his consistency and firmness, and the imperial favor and the public appro- 
bation have rewarded the merits and worth of a citizen whose conduct and 
character are worthy the republic. After certain preliminaries had been 
arranged, the contracts for the making of the locomotives, cars, wagons and 
carts, were offered, and parties from England, France, Belgium, Holland 
Germany, and the United States, sent in their proposals to the department 
of ways and communications. Among these was one from a party of young 
mechanics, Messrs. Harrison and Eastwick, of Philadelphia, and Mt. Win- 
ants, of Baltimore. They had been informed by some of the Russian agents 
in the United States, that it would be for their interest to visit St. Petersburg 
and endeavor to get the contract. They had no capital to invest in any un- 
dertaking of this kind, nor could they boast of any influence at court. They 
nevertheless repaired to the capital, and with little prospect of success in 
the race with those of superior credit or pretension, they sent in their pro 
posals. When it is known that these proposals were accepted, and that tooi 
when other parties had offered to contract at a much lower rate — the con- 
fidence of the government in the skill and ability of the American mechanics, 
is sufficiently apparent. It also shows that the government had a perfect 
knowledge, through their foreign agents, of the capability and character of 
the men they wished to employ. Money was a matter of no consequence, 
influence at court was of no importance, and all those who had built their 
hopes on these considerations, were thrown aside for others, who were 
•known at home to be late and early in the workshop, and to possess the 
necessary intelligence, energy, and perseverance. 

As soon as it was reported that the Americans had the contract, a pro- 
longed growl w.as heard in the English quarter. That the Kamtschatka 
steam friL;ate should have been built in the United States ; that she should 



OF AMERICANS. 641 

beat anything for speed or beauty in the north — that she should be the fa- 
vorite sea-boat of the emperor, in spite of the rumors that told of her blow- 
ing up, or going down with all on board, was bad enough ; but that these 
infernal Yankees should be insinuating themselves into the imperial favor, 
in defiance of all precautions to the contrary, was almost beyond endurance. 

The Americans had the contract, and from the moment this was known, 
their credit was unlimited both in En!:;land and in Russia. Those who had 
possession of the works at Alexandroffsky, were notified to leave forthwith, 
and the Americans immediately moved in and occupied the vast buildings 
and grounds, covering about one hundred and sixty acres, and belonging to 
the factory. The dwellings occupied by the late superintendents and now 
opened for the use of the new proprietors were all that could be desired" 
Saloons, bath-rooms, ceilings in fresco, gardens, summer-houses and duck 
ponds, witnessed the taste and the comfort of the original possessors. The 
foundry itself contained three hundred Ru.ssian workmen, and a quantity of 
old machinery out of date and out of order. All these wanted renovating 
and repairing. Orders were imraodiately dispatched to England and the 
United States, for all the new and approved inventions. Fifteen or twenty 
assistant workmen were brought from the latter country. But many of these 
would not remain, for although they were better paid than they would bo 
elsewhere, they could not support the eimui attending a residence where 
there were no public meetings, nor discussions, nor newspapers, nor elec- 
tions, nor lectures, not even a temperance excitement to alleviate the pains 
of exile. 

American newspapers are seldom seen in Russia. The 'Sun' published 
in New York, and sold for one cent the number, was delivered to a sub- 
scriber in St. Petersburg at one dollar and a half per copy. The rates of 
postage are very high. Before the subscriber could stop the aforesaid jour- 
nal, a large amount of money had been expended. 

As the Russians were incapable of doing many kinds of work, it became 
necessary to resort to Sweden for assistance, and sixtj- intelligent mechanics 
were brought from that country. The foundry was enlarged, all was soon 
in movement, and three thousand artisans employed in the manufacture of 
two hundred locomotives and seven thousand cars, in one of the best and 
most complete establishments in the world. It was visited by the minister 
and princes, and all were delighted with the experiment and the improve- 
ment. Other contracts for the making of engines and steamboats, amount- 
ing to many millions of money, were offered to the Americans. When 
they commenced operations, they were desirious of introducing a system 
of police, altogether different from that one prevailing at Alexandroffsky. 
Their humane exertions were frustrated by the utter ignorance of the Rus- 
sian laborers of all notions of common honesty and morality. Some of 
them wei-e serfs of the crown, some of them serfs of the nobles, and some 
free peasants. They would steal whatever they could conveniently conceal, 
and carried off in their clothing, tools, bits of brass, copper, or whatever 
else would purchase a dram. It became absolutely necessary, therefore, to 
adopt the old practice of having soldiers Btationed at the entrances, and 
every Russian who passed out was regularly searched. Every morning 
some were so intoxicated as to be unable to work ; they were given ia 



642 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

charge to a police ofEoor, by whom they were stripped and flogged. The 
emperor visited the works at Alexandroffsky, not long since, and expressed 
his satisfaction to Messrs. Eastwick, Harrison and Wiuauts, by presenting 
each of them with a diamond ring. He also passed over the railway as 
far as Colperno to which point it is finished, and returned to confer upon 
the distinguished engineer the order of St. Anne, and to express his grati- 
fication in a ukase. In 1842, the most valuable import into Russia from 
the United States, next after the articles of cotton, was machinery. This 
was mostly intended for the foundry of Alexandroffsky, and the furtherance 
of the work upon the railroad. The steam earth-excayators and steam pile- 
drivers wore considered extraordinary productions, and so useful did they 
appear that directions were given for their further importation and their 
general use upon the various public work.s. It was about this time that an 
American dentist arrived from Paris to inspect the imperial masticators, and 
so successful were his operations that he was decorated with the ribbon of 
St. Andrew. Soon after Nicholas sent to America for bridge builders and 
millwrights, as Peter sent to Holland for blacksmiths and carpenters. The 
report of this exceeding partiality for the citizens of the republic soon at- 
tracted attention in the United States, and during the ensuing summer, 
almost every steamer brought in some enterprising son of New England. 
Patent fira-arms, contrivances for making pins, and specimens of almost 
every new invention, wore presented to the patronage of the autocrat. Let- 
ters were addressed to his imperial majesty from individuals residing in the 
far west, requesting service in the army and navy, while his excellency the 
American minister received parcels marked 'this side up with care,' and 
containing various articles which he was directed to deliver immediately to 
the Emperor of all the Russias. There were daguerreotype views, and 
there were models of bridges and floating docks, and plans and specifica- 
tions for building ships and steamboats. One person was ready to supply 
anv demand for excellent clocks ; another sent a set of mineral teeth as a 
sample of his workmanship ; another sent his majesty a work on the treat- 
ment of diseases of the spine ; another sent to each of the imperial ^mily 
a barrel of Newtown pippins, and some member of the temperance societj-, 
an awful looking picture of the human stomach diseased by the use of 
brandy. Never was there such a prospect of the tide of emigration run- 
ning eastward, and if free trade had been the order of the daj-, if passport 
and police system had not presented such barriers to circumfora neons 
strangers, if the emperor had not published a ukase, stating that no presents 
whatever, coming from unknown individuals, would bo received in future 
by the imperial family, the regeneration of the empire might have been 
completed through the agency of speculating Yankees." 

AMERICAN NATIONAL CODKTEST. 

One of the most pleasing acts of national courtesy on record was the res- 
toration by our government to England of one of the vessels which had 
been sent out to the Arctic Ocean, in search of Sir John Frariklin, and 
where she became so hopelessly shut up in the ice as to compel her crew 
to abandon her to save their own lives. She was found by one of our 



OF AMERICANS. 643 

wlialcrs,.an(l brought to America. The full circumstauces wo annex from 
Sargent's Arctic Adventure. 

"In the month of September, 1855, the whaler George Henry, Captain 
Buddington, of New London, Connecticut, was drifting along, beset by the 
ice, in Baffin's Bay, when one morning the captain, looking through his 
glass, saw a large ship some fifteen or twenty miles distant, apparently 
working her way toward him. Day after day, while helplessly imprisoned 
in the jiack, he watched her coming nearer. On the seventh day, the mate, 
Mr. Quail, and three men were sent out to find out what she was. 

After a hard day's journey over the ice — jumping from piece to piece, 
and pushing themselves along on isolated cakes — they were near enough to 
see that she was lying on her larboard side firmly imbedded in the ice. 
They shouted lustily, as soon as they got within hailing distance ; but there 
was no answer. Not a soul was to be seen. For one moment, as the men 
came alongside, they faltered, with a superstitious feeling, and hesitated to 
go on board. A moment after, they had climbed over the broken ice, and 
stood on deck. Everything was stowed away in order — spars hauled ujj 
and lashed to one side, boats piled together, hatches calked down. Over 
the helm, in letters of brass, was inacribed the motto, ' England expects 
every man to do his duty.' But there was no man on board to heed the 
warning. 

The whalemen oroke open the companion-way, and descended into the 
cabin. All was silence and darkness. Groping their way to the table, 
they found matches and candles, and struck a light. There were decan- 
ters and glasses on the table, chairs and lounges standing around, books 
scattered about — everything just as it had been last used. Looking curi- 
ously from one thing to another,^ wondering what this ship might be, at last 
they came upon the log-book. It was indorsed, 'Bark Resolute, 1st Sept., 
1853, to April, 1851.' One entry was as follows, '11. M. S. Resolute, 17th 
January, 1854, nine A. M. — Mustered by divisions. People taking exercise 
jn deck. Five P. u. — Mercury frozen.' 

This told the story. It was Captain Kellett's ship, the Resolute, which 
had broken away from her icy prison, and had thus fallen into the hands 
jf our Yankee whalemen. . 

While the men were making these discoveries, night came on, and a gale 
Arose. So hard did it blow that they were compelled to remain on board, 
and for two days these four were the whole crow of the Resolute. It was 
not till 19th of September that they returned to their own ship, and made 
their roport. 

All these ten days, since Captain Buddington had first seen her, tlie ves- 
jcls had been nearing each other. On the 19th he boarded her himself, and 
found tliat in her hold, on the larboard side, was a good d^l of ice. Her 
tanks had burst, from tlie extreme cold ; and she was full of water, nearly 
to her lower deck. Everything that could move from its jilace had moved. 
Evcrvthing between decks was wet ; everything that would mould was 
mould}'. 'A sort of persiiiration ' had settled on the beams and ceilings. 
The whalemen made a fire in Kellett's stove, and soon started a sort of 
shower from the vapor with which it filled the air. The Resolute h.ad, 
liowever, four fine force pumps. For three days the captain and six men 
41. 



Gii ADVENTURES AJTD ACHIEVEMENTS 

worked fourteen hours a day on one of these, and liad the pleasure of find- 
ing that they freed her of water — that she was tight still. They cut away 
upon the masses of ice : and on the 23d of September, in the evening, she 
freed herself from her encumbrances, and took an even keel. This was off 
the shore of Baffin's Bay, in latitude 67°. . On the shortest tact, she was 
twelve hundred miles from where Kellett left her. 

There was work enough still to be done. The rudder was to be shipped, 
the rigging to be made taut, sail to be set — and it proved, by the way, tliat 
the sail on the yards was much of it still serviceable, while a suit of new 
linen sails below were greatly injured by moisture. In a week more, she 
was ready to make sail. The pack of ice still drifted with both ships ; but 
on the 21st of October, after a long north-west gale, the Eesolutu was free. 

Captain Buddington had resolved to bring her home. He had picked 
ten men from the George Henry, and with a rough tracing of the American 
coast, drawn on a sheet of foolscap, with his lever watch and a quadrant 
for his instruments, he squared off for New London. A rough, hard pas- 
sage they had of it. The ship's balla.st was gone, by the bursting of the 
tanks ; she was top-heavy and undermanned. He spoke to a British whal- 
ing bark, and by her sent to Captain Kellett his epaulets, and to his own 
owners news that he was coming. They had heavy gales and head winds, 
and were driven as far down as the Bermudas. The water left in the ship's 
tanks was brackish, and it needed all the seasoning which the ship's choco- 
late would give to make it drinkable. ' For sixty hours at a time,' says the 
captain, 'I frequently had no sleep;' but his perseverance was crowned 
with success, at last, and, on the night of the 23d of December, he made 
the light off the harbor from which he s.ailed, and on Sunday morning, the 
24th, dropped anchor in the Thames, opposite New London, and ran up 
the British ensign on the shorn masts of the Resolute. 

Her subsequent history is fresh in the minds of our readers. The British 
government generously released all their claim in favor of the sailors. 
Thereupon, Congress resolved that the vessel should be purchased and re- 
stored as a present to her majesty from the American people. This design 
was fully carried out. The Resolute was taken to the dry-dock in Brook- 
lin, and there put in complete order. Everything on board — even to the. 
smallest article — was replaced as nearly as possible in its original position ; 
and, at length, having been manned and officered from the United States 
navy, and placed under the command of Captain Hartstein, the Resolute, 
stanch and sound again from stem to stern, ' with sails all set and streamers 
all afloat,' once more shaped her course for England. 

On the l2th of December, 18.56, after a boisterous passage, she anchored 
at Spithead, with the United States and British ensigns flying at tlie peak. 
' Notwithstandfci* the furious gale which was then raging,' says Captain 
Hartstein, in his offici.al report, ' we were immediately boarded by Captain 
Peal, of her Britannic Majesty's frigate Shannon, who cordially offered to 
us every civility and attention. In a few moments afterward, a steamer 
arrived from Vice-Admiral Sir George Seymour (commanding officer of the 
station), with a tender of services, and congratulations upon our safe arrival. 
Proceeding to Portsmouth next morning (which I did in a government 
steamer provided me for that purpose), I visited the United States con- 



OF AMEPJCAXS. 645 

sulatc, and was there waited upon by Sir Thomas Maitkind, who had be- 
come commanding oificcr of the naval station in the absence of the admi 
val, Sir George Seymour, and received from liim a most cordial welcome, 
with proffers of every possible service, by express instruction from the ad- 
miralty. Accommodations were prepared for us at the first hotel, and 
orders for a bountiful supply of provisions to be sent on board the Reso- 
lute ; also a carte hhtnche for the railroad to London, for myself and the 
officers of the Resolute. In fact, nothing could exceed the kindness and 
courtesy with wliich we wore treated by Sir Thomas Maitland, who seemed 
upwilling that any means of adding to liis hearty expressions of welcome 
should pass unexhausted. That morning's post brought me a communica- 
tion from Sir Charles Wood, first lord of the admiralty, whose expressions 
of kindly feeling I beg may bo particularly noticed. At noon of the day 
after our arrival, a royal salute was fired from the Victory (flag ship), from 
the fortifications, and from the Slianiion, at Spithead.' 

The queen having expressed a wish to visit the Resolute, and a desire 
that the vessel might be taken to Cowes, near her majesty's private resi- 
dence, the ship was towed thither by the government steamer, escorted by 
two other steamers and the steam frigate Retribution. 

Meanwhile, the necessary diplomatic formalities had been exchanged be- 
tween the American minister and Lord Clarendon. 

Of the queen's visit to the Resolute, which took place on the 16th of 
December, we quote the following description from the London Times : 

' The queen, accompanied by Prince Albert, the Prince of Wales, the 
Princess Royal, and the Princess Alice, left Osljorne at a quarter past tea 
o'clock, and drove to the ship in an open carriage, drawn by four gray 
ponies. Her majesty was attended by a distinguished suite. The Reso- 
lute, dressed in her colors, was hislied alongside of the royal embarkation 
place at Trinity Wharf. The English and American flags were flying at 
the peak ; and, as soon as the queen set her foot on the deck, the royal 
standard was hoisted at the main. The Retribution fireil a salute, the 
boats' crews 'tossed' their oars, and the ship's company, standing on tbo 
rail, received her majesty with three rounds of cheers. Captain Hartstein 
received the royal party at the gangway, and the officers, in full uniform, 
were grouped on eitlier side. All were presented to the queen bjf Captain 
Hartstein, who then addressed her majesty in the following words : 

'Allow mi! to welcome your majesty on board the Resolute, and, in obe- 
dience to the will of my countrymen and the President of the United 
States, to restore her to you, not only as an evidence of a friendly feeling 
to your sovereignty, but as a token of love, admiration, and respect to your 
majesty personal ly.' 

The queen seemed touched by the manly simplicity of this frank and 
sailor-liko address, and replied, with a gracious smile, 'I thank you, sir. 
The royal family then went over the ship, and examined her with manifest 
interest. 

After tlie withdrawal of the royal jiarty, there was an elegant 'dejeuner' 
in the wardroom, at which, among other toasts, was given, 'The future suc- 
cess of the Resolute, and may she be again employed in search for Sir John 
Franklin and his comrades.' The sentiment evoked cordial applause. 



646 ADVENTURES AND ACFIIBVEMBNTS 

On the afternoon of tljc same day, 'I received,' says Captai i Ileirtstein, 
'a note, inclosing a check for one hundred pounds, with a request from her 
majesty that it should be distributed among the crew ; which I accepted in 
their behalf.' 

On the morning of December 17th, the Resolute was towed up to the 
harbor of Portsmouth, escorted by the steam frigate Retribution ; and, on 
arriving at her anchorage, was received by another royal salute, and with 
such an outburst of popular feeling as was never known before. 

The British government and people were unremitting in their attentions 
to Captain Hartsteiu and his officers, during their slaj' in England. Three 
splendid Christmas cakes were forwarded by Lady Franklin to Portsmouth, 
to be presented to the American officers and crew. A passage to the United 
States, in the Biitish steamer Retribution, was tendered them. This, how- 
ever, it was thought best to decline. On the 30lh of December, 1856, the 
American flag was hauled down on board the Resolnte, when it was saluted 
by the Victory with twenty-one guns. The union-jack was then hoisted, 
and the ship was given up to the authorities. The next day the American 
officers and crew left England, on their return to the United States. 

By late English papers, we learn that the queen has commissioned Mr. 
William Simpson, the artist of the Crimean war, to paint for her private 
gallery a picture of the 'Reception ' on board the Resolute — a very graceful 
memorial of a most interesting act of international courtesy." 

AMERICANS IN AUSTRALIA. 

Our countrymen who have wandered to the antipodes, although they do 
not rise until we sit down to our suppers, and in some other habits, occa- 
sioned by geographical and climatic necessities, are the reverse of us, yet 
seem to preserve all our essential national traits, judging from a published 
series of "fast" letters from a youthful American merchant, Mr. George 
Francis Train, and entitled " Young America Abroad." One of these, dated 
at Melbourne, Australia, we extract entire, as it shows what some of our 
people are about, and what their behavior in that far-distant quarter of the 
globe. 

"You will be surprised to see how fast this place is becoming American- 
ized. Go where yon will, from Sandridge to Bendigo, from the "Ovens" 
to Balaarat, you can but note some indication of the indomitable energy of 
our people. ' Hang a coffee-bag in that place, noted for the warmth of its 
temperature and the morals of its inhabitants, and a Yankee will be sure to 
find it,' s.iys some observer of our national character. 

The true American defies competition, and laughs sneeringly at impos- 
sibilities. He don't believe in the word, and is prepared to show how 
meaningless it is. It is not an unusual thing to hear the movers of some 
undertaking that has been dragging its slow carcass along, remark : ' If you 
want to have the jetty finished, you must let the Americans take hold of it ;' 
and sure enough they have obtained the contract to complete the Ilobson's 
Bay Railroad Pier, and our countrymen mechanics invariably receive the 
preference. 

A mail or two since I wrote you about the Tittlebat appearance of the 
Melbourne fire brigade at the late fire in Collins street, and suggested the 



OF AMERICANS. 647 

propriety of your sending us out a Boston tub or two, just for aggravation 
s;il<e. Hardly liad my letter cleared the Heads before we liad another 
scorcher, more furious than the first, burning down some half-dozen build- 
ings in Flanders lane. The Americans could not endure it any longer, and 
on the spot doterniined to voliuiteer their services for the public good. It 
w.is too much for our weak nerves to see the reckless destruction of pro- 
perty, simply for want of a suitable engine. The next morning our paper 
was started and sixteen thousand dollars subscribed in less time than it takes 
to jwrform the Episcopal service, for tlie purchasing of the suitable apparatus 
for a thoroughly efficient fire department under the volunteer system. After 
all the American houses had contributed their fifty pounds, the paper was 
passed around among the ' merchants of all nations,' who gladly gave i;s a 
helping li.and. A committee has been appointed to wait upon bis excel- 
lencj', with a brief outline of our system of managing such affairs, and to 
request the government to furnish us with engine houses, etc., if it met 
with his sanction and approval. A meeting will be called to hear the 
report of said committee, and if favorable, the orders for the engines will be 
sent fortliwith. 

As most of the Atlantic States are represented here by mercantile housesi 
there is q\ute a difference of opinion about where, and by whom said 
machinery shall be made — some say Boston — and I most respectfully would 
intimate that I am one of that number, having lor many years a most 
religious belief in the superiority of that city over many others for clifiper 
ships, clipper mechanics, clipper engine.% clipper scholars and clijjper mer- 
chants. Some say Xew York, others, Philadelphia, while one or two 
believe in Baltimore. To settle the question, wo may have to draw from 
each an engine for competition s.ake — each maker will then be striving to 
excel, and we shall accordingly get the best ' mer-chines.' 

This movement will show you tlnit the Americans are not asleep. 

A few days since I was trying my vail, preparatory for the dust that 
sweeps along Collins street, between Queens and Sawston, when my old 
eyes were made glad by the appearance of a real old Boston water-cart in 
full operation. The streets were being watered, and 'twas amusing to see 
the astonished natives on each side gaping incredulously at the watering 
machine. No wonder, poor benighted race. It was something they never 
dreiuned of; they could not understand bow that water, which they wero 
paying two dollars a cask for, should be scattered up and down the streets. 
One man, more intelligent than the rest, had presence of mind enough to 
climb up on the wheel and tell the driver, amid a shqut from the knowing 
ones, that the water was all leaking out of his cart ! 

On inquiry, I found that an American was watering the struct on sub- 
scription. I noticed one sjwt in the middle of the street as dusty as ever, 
while either side was carefully sprinkled. It seems that the occupant oi 
the store adjoining declined l)ayiiig for the luxury, so the driver stoj^ped 
just before, and commenced sprinkling again just after having passed hi.- 
door ! 

A company of American Califoriii.nis have started a line of passenge 
wagons (American, of course, made at Concord) to Bendigo ; another part) 
have two teams running from Geelong to Bala^irat ; and some Cape Coc 



648 • ADVENTUEES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

folks are doing a good business with some Yankee coaches between Sand- 
ridge and Melbourne. 

There are about one hundred New York buggy wagons in and about the 
city, mostly owned by Englishmen, who for a long time could not believe 
that the tiny spokes and slender wheels and springs were sufficiently strong 
to carry their weight ! They are much delighted with the covered buggies, 
and well they may be, for the sun comes down most scorchingly upon those 
who sport a 'dog cart ! ' 

Some two or three Americans are engaged in catching fish, some forty 
miles from town, for this market ; another party are cutting firewood at the 
Heads, on speculation — while Moss is selling American ice at the Criterion 
at fifty cents a pound. 

American timber shuts out the colonial ; and American mining tools have 
already displaced the English. 

American liquors stand no chance here, but the American drinks are 
very popular. And now, having exercised the peculiar privilege of an Ameri- 
can in saying what he can of his countrymen, permit me to wish you and 
your readers as many happy returns of the new year as it may be pleasant 
for you and them to enjoy." 

It seems our countrymen there do not forget to celebrate the 4th of July. 
On an occasion of this kind the writer of the above quoted letter, in re- 
sponse to a toast to "G. F. Train and Young America," made a character- 
istic speech, which, considering the place and circumstances, does well to 
extract in this connection. After tracing the descent of Young America for 
a thousand years, he says : 

" But if the retrospective view has dazzled us, how much more astonish- 
ing is the present; when our thirteen little States are rolling on toward 
forty living Republics, bound together as one nation ; when our three 
millions have grown to thirty, and 'driven by the hand of God,' to quote 
De Tocqueville, ' are peopling the Western wilderness at the average rate of 
seventeen miles per annum;' when our Lilliputian commerce has whitened 
everv sea, and our mother tongue has worked its way into every land, and 
w-hen our influence and our progress, like the ripples in mid-ocean, reach 
from shore to shore. 

Startle not, my friends, at the lightning pace of the pilgrim's steed. Ho 
is sure to win the race — naught stops him in his destiny ; when danger lurks 
in his pathway, he turns high his head and snorts a proud defiance at the 
precipice that would have ruined him, and plunges on to victory. * * * 
Young America is only another edition of Old England, in a binding 
peculiar to the New World. Young John Bull in his shirt sleeves, working 
with an energy that commands success. England and America are partners, 
not rivals. The younger nation is the junior, who manages the western 
branches of the old concern. Youth gives activit}-, and hence the young 
man opens his letters before breakfast, on the steps of the postoffice, while 
the old gentleman prefers breaking the seal in dressing-gown and slippers 
after dinner. Young America showed the same feelings of independence in 
establishing a house of his own, that every yonng man experiences who 
leaves the old house to earn an honest livelihood by his own exertions. 

In this instance, however, the connection with the old concern is of more 



OF AMERICANS. Q^Q 

raluG thau that with the balance of the world. The revotution was merely 
an animated conversation, where shot and cannon were introduced to give 
emphasis to the debate, and when the disputed 'point' was settled, old 
England rose with renewed vigor, in Young Ameris.a. The sources of dis- 
cord soon began to dry, and now, as the flower turns to the sun, the needle 
to the magnet, the child to its mother, iis the twin brothers of Siam receive 
each the same emotions, so are we bound by speaking the same language, 
and worshiping the same God, to remember England, the proud old 
mother of our race, 

'And join the Stars, and Stripes, aud Cross in oue frnterual baud, 
Till Aiiglo-Sasou faith aud laws illumiue every land.' " 

AMEIilCAN ENTERPRISE. 

A rather sterile soil and a hard climate, in which winter holds for a large 
jjart of the year, are fortunate conditions for the real welfare and advance- 
ment of a people ; for these require extra exertions to secure a liveli- 
hood, and this extra labor so develops and disciplines all the faculties, that 
it seems as if only under such circumstances that an entire people will ever 
become greatly prosperous. This is the position of the inhabitants of New 
England, who, from apparently the most unpropitious circumstances of soil 
and climate, have opened new avenues of enterprise, and made their land 
teem with the riches of a most varied industry. 

We propose here to speak only of oue branch — the ice trade, a business 
which, from its recent origin and novelty, has been a subject of unusual 
comment. Ice being a product of the north, was unknown to the inhabit- 
ants of the torrid zone until brought to them through the agency of com- 
merce. An anecdote in point is somewhere told of an English sailor, who, 
in his wanderings, was brought before an Eastern Pasha, whom he amused 
with a long series of the most absurd, incredible yarns, in sailor fashion, all 
of which were listened to and believed with Mussulman-like gravity and 
honesty, until he unluckily mentioned, that in his country the cold often 
was so severe that the water actually grew solid so that people could walk 
upon it, whereupon the Pasha flew into a storm of passion, declared that ho 
now did not believe anything he had said, and finished by ordering him to 
be bastinadoed on the spot for a consummate liar ! 

Ice is said to be only the natural condition of water, that is, water with- 
out the admixture of the foreign element — heat. The ice harvest, matured 
and ripened by cold, is watched with a? much eagerness by those in the 
trade, as his golden-hued harvest is watched by the farmer, for both alike 
are sources of wealth. Ice was used for domestic consumption in tliis 
country previous to this century. Hunt's Merchant's Magazine for August, 
1855, has an interesting article giving the history and statistics of this 
bu.sinoss, from which we extract the following : 

"The idea of exporting ice to low latitudes was first developed by 
Frederic Tudor, Esq., of Boston, in August, 1805. During the following 
February he shipped the first cargo of ice that was ever exported from this 
cxjuutry, and probably from any other, in a brig belonging to Liniself, from 
Boston to Martinique. 

Although Mr. Tudor went on with the first ice tliat he dispatched to the 



650- ADVEXTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

West Indies, the voyage wfis attended with great losses. These happened 
in consequence of the want of ice-houses, and the expense of fitting out two 
agents to the different islands, to announce the project, and to secure some 
advantages. But a greater loss arose from the dismasting of the brig in the 
vicinity of Martinique. The embargo and war intervened to suspend the 
business, but it was renewed on the return of peace. As late as 1823, con- 
tinued disasters attended the business, which largely affected the finances 
and health of Mr. Tudor. After an illness of two years, he was enabled to 
])roceed and to extend the business to several of the Southern States, and to 
other of the West Indies. In 183i, his ships carried the frozen element to 
the East Indies and to Brazil, an important event in itself, since no other 
vessel had ever visited those distant parts of the world on a similar errand, 
and because they have proved good markets from that day to this. 

It i.s now half a century since the founder of this trade commenced it. 
lie is still actively and largely engaged in the business, and notwithstanding 
early losses, by pursuing the same business, for a long period of years, 
lie has found an ample reward. The great increase of the Boston ice 
.trade has been since 1832. In that year the whole amount shipped was 
but four thousand three hundred and fiftj'-two tuns, which was cut at Fresh 
Pond by Mr. Tudor. In the year 1854, the amount exported from Boston 
was one hundred and fifty-six thousand five hundred and forty tuns. In 
the preceding year there were but one hundred thousand tuns shipped. In 
1845 there were but forty-eight thousand four hundred and twenty-two 
tuns exported. The railroads receive some ninety thousand dollars for 
transporting ice, and those who bear it over the sea from four hundred 
thousand dollars to five hundred thousand. 

Boston finds the best market for ice in the ports of southern cities. Of 
all that was exported last year, about one hundred and ten thousand tuns 
were sold in those cities. The next best market was the East Indies, where 
fourteen thousand two hundred and eighty-four tuns were sold. Other 
moderately good markets were Havana, Rio Janeiro, Callao, Demerara, St. 
Thomas, and Peru. Of the whole of hast year's exports, only eight hundred 
and ninety-five tuns were seut to Great Britain, and that was landed at 
Liverpool. Tears ago we were accustomed to hear how delighted the 
Queen of England was with our Newham Lake ice. Tlie mother-land 
now ships a portion of its ice from Norway, which is believed to bo the 
only nation that exports ice, save the United States. 

The leading house in Boston that is engaged in the exporting of ice is 
that of Gage, Hittenger & Co., which exported last year exactly ninety-one 
thousand five hundred and forty tuns. The remainder for the year, sixty- 
five thousand tuns, was exported by Frederic Tudor, Daniel Draper & Son, 
Piussell, Harrington & Co., and by the New England Ice Company. The 
number of vessels engaged in these shipments was five hundred and twenty. 
The exports of ice from Boston furnish the largest amount of tunnage of any 
other item. The commercial marine of the United States has been mate- 
rially increased by the operations of the ice trade. A large portion of the 
vessels formerly engaged in the freighting trade from Boston, sailed in 
ballast, depending for romnncration on freight of cotton, rice, tobacco, sugar, 
etc., to be obtained in more southern latitudes, often competing with the 



OF AMERICANS. C51 

ressels of other nations which couUi earn a freight out and home. Now a 
Rinall outward freight from Boston can usually be ohtaiiied for the trans- 
portation of ice to those places where freij;hting vessels ordinarily obtain 
cargoes. 

The ice-houses at Fresh Pond in 1847, were capable of containing eighty- 
sis thousand seven hundred and thirty-two tuns, or more than half the ice 
that was gathered in Massachusetts at that time. In that year the accom- 
modation at seven other ponds in the vicinity of Boston was equal to the 
eforsge of fifty-four thousand six hundred tuns. These ice-houses have 
been so increased that in 1854 their storage capacity was three hundred 
thousand tuns. 

From what has been said, it is clear that the ice trade is no mean one. 
Though it has advanced quietly, and has as yet scarcely made any figure in 
the literature of commerce, it is destined to be a very large business in this 
country. Already, from all that we can learn, there is invested in this 
branch of business, in all parts of the United States, not less than from six 
to seven millions of dollars. In ten years, judging from the past, it may be 
twice a^ great as at the present time. The number of men employed more 
or less of the winter in the business in Boston and vicinity is estimated at 
from two thousand to three thousand ; and in the whole country there are 
supposed to be eight thousand to ten thousand employed. 

All this is a clear gain to the productive industry of the country. Many 
men are thus employed at a season of the year when employment is the 
scarcest, and at fair prices of about $30 a month each, or $1,25 a day. 
Nor is this all. The value of all real estate has been much enhanced in 
the neighborhood of all fresh bodies of water where ice is secured, and new 
business advantages are constantly obtained. 

Ice was formerly regarded as a luxury, only to be enjoyed by the wealthy, 
or by thoSe well-to-do in the world. But wiihin a few years it has been 
regarded, not merely as a luxury, but as :i ncce.-isary of life, and desirable 
to be secured during the warm months by every family. Ice, too, h.as its 
medical uses. It is a tonic, and almost the only one, which, in its reaction 
produces no injiuy. It is stated that in India the first prescription of the 
physician to his patient is usually ice, and it is sometimes the only one. 

We cannot close better than in the language of Hon. Edward Everett, who, 
in paying a worthy tribute a few years ago to the gentleman who first en- 
gaged in the ice trade on a large scale, has, by his Ijeautiful words, given 
warmth to a very cold subject : 

" The gold expended by this gentleman (Mr. Frederic Tudor) at Nahant 
whether it is little or much, was originally derived, not from California, but 
from the ice of our own Fresh Pond. It is all Middlesex gold, every penny 
of it. The sparkling surface of our beautiful ponds, restored by the kindly 
hand of nature as often as it is removed, has yielded, and will continue to 
yield, ages after the wet diggings and the dry diggings of the Sacramento 
and the Feather Rivers are exhausted, a perpetual reward to the industry 
bestowed upon them. The sallow genius of the mine creates but once; 
when rilled by man the glittering prize is gone forever. Not so with our 
pure crystal lakes. 

" This is a branch of Middlesex industry that we have a right to be proud 



652 ADVEXTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

of. I do not think we have yet done justice to it ; and I look upon Mr. 
Tudor, the first person who took up this business on a large scale, as a great 
public benefactor. He has carried comfort, in its most inoffensive and salu- 
tary form, not only to the dairies and tables of our own community, but to 
those of other regions, throughout the tropics, to the f.rrthest East. 

When I had the honor to represent the country at London, I was a little 
struck oJie day, at the royal drawing-room, to see the President of the Board 
of Control (the board charged with the supervision of the government of 
India) approaching me with a stranger at that time much talked of in Lon- 
don — the Babu Dwarkanauth Tagore. This person, who is now living, 
.was a Hindoo of great wealth, liberty, and intelligence. He was dressed 
with Oriental magnificence — he had on his head, by way of turban, a rich 
Cashmere shawl, held together by a large diamond broacli ; another Cash- 
mere around his body ; his countenance and manners were those of a highly 
intelligent and remarkable person, as he was. After the ceremony of intro- 
duction was over, he said he w'ished to make Ins acknowledgments to me, 
as the American minister, for the benefits which my countrymen had con- 
ferred on his countrymen. I did not at first know what he referred to ; I 
thought he might have in view the mission schools, knowing, as I did, that 
he himself had done a great deal for education. He immediately said that 
he referred to the cargoes of ice sent from America to India, conducing not 
only to comfort, but health ; adding that numerous lives were saved every 
year by applying lumps of American ice to the head of the patient in cases 
of high fever. He asked me if I knew from what part of America it 
came. It gave me great pleasure to toll him that I lived, w-hen at home, 
within a short distance of the spot from which it was biought. It was a 
most agreeable circumstance to hear, in this authentic way, that the sagacity 
and enterprise of my friend and neighbor had converted the pure waters 
of our lakes into the means, not only of promoting health, but saving life, 
at the antipodes. I must say I almost envied Mr. Tudor the honest satis- 
faction which he could not but feel, in reflecting that he had been able to 
stretch out an arm of benevolence from the other side of the globe, by 
which he was every year raising up his fellow-men from the verge of tbo 
grave. How few of all the foreigners who have entered India, from the 
time of Sesostris or Alexander the Great to the present time, tan say as 
much ! Others, at best, have gone to govern, too often to plunder and to 
slay — our countryman has gone there, not to destroy life, but to save it — to 
benefit them while he reaps a well-earned harvest himself." 



THE ATLANTIC TELEGEAPH. 



Tire laying of tlie groat Oceanic Telcgrapli, wliicli connects Europe witli 
America by a perpetual cord, has been justly termed, ■' the great event of the 
Age." But it is soniL'tliing inliuilely greater than that. It is tlie great event 
of all ages, and nothing that has been accomplished by the wit of man since 
Columbus discovered a Kew World, can compare -^vith it in importance. By 
this one feat the Atlantic, for all the purposes of an interchange of intelligence 
between the countries on its opposite shores, hag been dried up. The ocean 
no longer exists as an obstacle to the free intercourse of thought between 
Europe aud America, and Time itself has been annihilated and sjiace destroyed. 
We in the United States, hereafter, shall know precisely what happens in 
Europe at the very moment it occurs. Ciuciiinati and St. Louis wiU be 
within fifteen minutes call of London, Paris, and St. Pctersburgh. The mind 
staggers under sueli thoughts as these, and the liveliest imagination is too weak 
to conceive of the immense results which must follow such mighty triumplis of 
mind over matter. The vain command of King Canute to the sea was nothing 
compared with this stupendous triumph which modern science has gained over 
the material barriers to the progress of man ; hereafter anything may be re- 
garded as possible which does not come iu conflict with God's laws. 

It is a happy circumstance that a volume like tliis can be closed bv an 
account of the rise, progress, and completion of the great work which is 
properly regarded as tlie crowning triumjih of seientilie discovery and me- 
chanical ingenuity. Tlic idea of a telegraphic communication between Eng- 
land and America^ was t lie natural result of the first success of the Electric 
Te'egraph. Wlicn the possibility of communicating instantaneously between 
two distant places by means of the magnetic wire was first demonstrated, the 
inventor, or at least the man who iierfectcd the scheme, stated, to the astonish- 
ment of those who heard him, that a communication between Loiulon and 
New Tork was within the scope of telegrapliic possibiMty. AV'itliiii fifteen 
years from the time when Jlorse made this declaration, tlic work was accom- 
plished. 

It has lieen well said that there are more things which, like the rising sun, 
the rainbow, the ocean, Niagara, and the beauty of women, are always new, 
and never produce a sensation of weariness by looking upon thoni. Whatever 
is truly great and good can never tiro, aud it .seems luirdly jiossible that so 
stupendous a work as the great Ocean Telegraph, .should ever become so 
commoH, and so much a mere matter of course, as not to excite our wonder 
and fill us with admiration, by its seemingly miraculous performances. But it 

(053; 



654 ADVENTURES AxVD ACHIEVEMENTS 

will become common to a certain degree, aud we shall receive intelligence 
from the other side of the Atlantic, transmitted at the rate of three thousand 
miles in less than a minute, without stopping to question its authenticity. 
The Telegraph is a splendid realization of the Baconian saj'iug, that " Knowledge 
is Power." And the imponderable agents which we cannot haudle, weigh, uor 
even see, or yet feel, are the vehicles of power ! aud iutermediately the vehicles of 
thought. Before they can become such, and subject to our will, we must have 
'a knowledge of the laws by which they are governed. It is the province of 
the discoverer in science to ascertain the laws of Nature, to frame just hyjjo- 
theses, and deduce their legitimate consequences. After him comes the inventor, 
who applies to practical uses the knowledge thus digested. The discovery of 
any scientific truth or new material in the vegetable or mineral kingdom, adds 
to the wealth of the world in a degree that can never be foreseen. Who 
could have imagined when the substance, now in such common use, known as 
g-utta pcrcha, was first brought to our knowledge, some twelve or fifteen years 
since, that on that apparently unimportant gum would depend the successful 
solution of the problem of oceanic telegraphy. Yet without gutta percha 
there could be no sub-marine telegraphs, for no other substance has been dis- 
covered which will answer the purpose of insulating the wires. 

To the present generation who have witnessed the rapid growth of tele- 
graphy, and seen the realization of the wildest anticipations of its inventors, it 
seems hardly possible that the whole science is not a sudden out^growth of the pre- 
sent time. But such is not the case. The art of telegraphing by various con- 
trivances has been practised in all ages, but Electric Telegraphy from its 
commencement does not date further back than a hundred and fifty years. 

If history, as has been afiirmed. becomes more and more intellectual matter ; 
if the real history of our era be in advancing stages of thought, in the manifold 
applications of the creative might of man, to exhibit the development of the 
telegraphic system, will be to write one of its most im]iorfant chapters, and so 
coastruct a canto of that sublimost of epics, the universal history of humanity. 

Properly speaking, perhaps, the Electric Telegraph may be said to com- 
mence in 1752 with Franklin's immortal experiment with the kite and key. 
Since then, the progress of scientific discovery in this direction has been steady 
and rapid. It was not until the latter part'of the eighteenth century that the 
science of eleotrology began to receive some of those great generalizations 
which give it a rational character, which, in fact, constitute it a science. The 
first real steps were the distinction of the two electricities — Muschenbrock's 
experiments with the Leydon jar, and the brilliant discovery of Franklin, who 
received the first electrical message direct from the clouds over the twine 
which held his kite. This was the primal manifestation of the influence of 
electricity in the general .system of Nature. These were followed by the vast 
labours of Coulomb and Ampere, who brought electrical phenomena under the 
jurisdiction of mathematics. 

Electro-magnetism was discovered in 1819, by Oersted, who published to 
the world in the following year his beautiful anil comprehensive theory. Ten 
years afterwards Arago and Farraday produced their brilliant generalizations, 
which have been, in fact, the foundation of all the magnificent applications of 
this science to practical purposes which have been made since. • 



OF AMERICANS. 655 

It would seem as though it was the destiny of every great invention, to pass 
through a series of rudimentary or embryonic stages before arriving at a 
perfectly rational and serviceable shape. Through such stages did the appli- 
cation of steam pass, as witness the iunuinerable tcutalives for centuries pre- 
vious to its receiving those foundations in science from which we derive all our 
power over this great force. 

The History of Telegraphy should be divided into three periods : 

The first : From the development of electricity by friction, to the discovery 
of galvanism, or the production of electricity by the chemical union of acids upon 
metals, in 1790 by Galvani, and by Volta in 1800. 

The second period should date from the di.?covery of the Galvauic or Voltaic 
battery at t^e beginning of the present century, embracing the discovery of 
Electro-magnetism by Oersted, in 1819. and Ampere's first application of the 
principles he evolved, up to 1831, when Professor Henry discussed the method 
of constructing his improved magnets, in connection with properly arranged 
batteries so as to produce mechanical eflects at a distance. 

The third period commences in 1837, when our countryman Professor 
Morse, and in England Professors Wheatstoue and Cook, respectively patented 
their telegraphic inventions, and inaugurated the triumphal and almost miracu- 
lous success in the science which the past twelve years have witnessed. And, 
in alluding to this period, and the past attempts of Professor Morse to obtain 
the small appropriations from Congress, which he required to enable him to 
establish his telegraphic line from Washington to Baltimore, we cannot better 
give an idea of the difficulties he had to contend with in overcoming that almost 
invincible repugnance which all legislative bodies have to new discoveries, than 
by giving the following interesting little personal history which was narrated 
by ex-Governor Wallace of Indiana, at a celebration in Indianapolis, of the 
completion of the Atlantic Telegraph. Mr. -Wallace, in addressing the meet- 
ing, said : 

•' Some sixteen years ago I had the honor of a seat in Congress, as the Rei> 
resentative of this district. The Whig party had just achieved a great victory. 
They held possession of the Government. In the midst of the political strife 
around us, two remarkable persons appeared — Espy, the ' Storm King,' and 
Morse, the Electrician. Each was asking for assistance. Each became the 
butt of ridicule, the target of merciless arrows of wit. They were voted down- 
right bores, and the idea of giving them money, was pronounced farcical. They 
were considered monomaniacs, and as such were laughed at, punned upon and 
almost despised. 

" One morning I entered the House of Representatives, and, to my astonish- 
ment, saw a gentleman rise from his seat whom 1 had never heard open his 
mouth before, unless it was to vote or address the Speaker. ' I hold in my 
liand,' he said, ' a resolution which I respectfully ofler to the consideration of the 
House.' 

" In a moment a page was at his dcslc, and the resolution was transfoiTcd to 
the Speaker, and by him delivered to the Clerk, who read: ' Resolved, Tint 
the Committee of Ways and ^Means be instructed to inquire into the expediency 
of appropriating 830,000 to enal)le I'rofessor Morse to establish a line of tele- 
graph between AV'ashington and Baltimore.' Tlie gentleman who ofliired it wad 



656 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

Mr. Ferris, one of the Representatives from the City of New Tork, a man of 
wealth and learning, but modest, retiring and diffident in his demeanor. It be- 
ing merely a resolution of inquiry, it passed without opposition, and, out of 
regard to the mover, without comment. In time it came to the Committee of 
Ways and Means, and when in its order it came before the Committee, a scene 
presented itself tliat I shall not soon forget. The Committee was composed of 
five Whigs and four Democrats. The latter were Jlr. Atherton of New Hamp- 
shire, John W. Jones of Virginia, Frank Pickens of North Carolina, and Dison 
H. Lewis of Alabama. On the Whig side were Millard Fillmore of New Tork, 
Joseph R. lugersoll of Pennsylvania, Sampson Mason of Ohio, Thos. F. Mar- 
shall of Kentucky, and David Wallace of Indiana, all of whom, both Whigs and 
Democrats, excepting your humble servant, had by their public services, and 
brilliaiit talents, acquired a national reputation. The clerk of the Committee 
read the resolution. The chairman, Mr. Fillmore, in a clear, distinct voice, 
said : ' Gentlemen, what disposition shall be made of it ?' There was a dead 
pause around the table. No one seemed inclined to take the initiative. I con- 
fess that, inasmuch as the mover of the resolution in the House was a Democrat, 
I expected the Democratic side of the Committee to stand god-father to it there. 
But not a bit of it. They gave it no countenance. 

" At length Mr. Ingersoll, or Mr. Mason, I cannot now recollect which, broke 
the ominous silence by moving that the Committee instruct the Chairman to 
report a bill to the House, appropriating . $30,000 for the purpose named in the 
resolution. This, as the saying is ' brought us all up standing.' No speeches 
were made. The question was called for. The Teas and Nays were taken, 
alphalietically, and to my astonishment, I found every Democrat voting No ; 
Fillmore, Mason, Ingersoll and Marshall voting in the affirmative. My vote 
would decide the question either way. To tell the truth, I had paid no atten- 
tion to the matter. Like the majority around me, I considered it a great hum- 
bug. I had not the faintest idea of the importance of my vote. But as fortune 
would have it, I recollected that Mr. Morse was then csperiraentiug in the Capi- 
tol with his telegraph. He had stretched a wire from the basement story to the 
ante-room of the Senate Chamber, and it was in my power to satisfy myself in 
regard to its feasibility. I determined to try it. I asked leave to consider my 
vote. It was granted. I immediately stepped out of the committee room, and 
went to the ante-chamber. I found it crowded with Representatives and 
strangers. I requested permission to put a question to the ' madman' at the 
other end of the wire. It was granted immediately. I wrote the question and 
handed it to the telegrapher. The crowd cried ' read ! read ! ' In a very short 
time the answer was received. When written out the same cry of ' read ! 
read ! ' came from the crowd. To my utter astonishment, I found that the mad- 
man at the other end of the wire had more wit and force than the Congressman 
at this end. He turned the laugh upon me completely. But, as you know, we 
Western men are never satisSed with one fall ; that never less than two out of 
*hree can force from us an acknowledgement of defeat. So I put a second 
question, and there came a second answer. If the first raised a laugh at my ex- 
pense, the second converted that laugh into a roar and a shout. I was more 
thau satisfied. I picked up my hat, bowed myself out of the crowd, and as I 
passed along the haJls and passages of the Capitol, that shout followed me. As 



OF AMERIC^ys'S. 657 

a matter of course, I voted in the affirmatiye of the motion then pendiug before 
the Committee, and it prevailed. The Chairman reported the bill. The House, 
if I mistake not, passed it nem con, without asking the Teas and Nays. And 
tlius coneurriug, the "Wliig portion of that Committee, and that old New Yorker, 
played the part of Isabella towards Mr. Morse in this his last struggle to dem- 
onstrate the practicability of the most amazing invention of the age, the Mag- 
netic Telegraph ! If the Committee had ignored the proposition, there is no 
telling what would have been the result. That the experiment would have been 
finally made, no one can entertain a doubt. But when or by whom is the ques- 
tion. It was not within the range of individual fortune to make it, and, if it 
was, none but Prof. Morse would have hazarded it." 

Tet for the intelligent liberality displayed by Mr. Wallace in voting for the 
appropriation for the experimental telegraph, he was violently assailed by his 
political opponents in Indiana ; and it is said, that an old Shelljy county farmer 
urged the governor to deny having voted for the telegraph, and a Jerry 
Johnson, to show his contempt for the humbug, suggested that " We would next 
hear of the people driving God Almighty's lightning across the ocean to split 
Europe into fragments." 

There was a vast deal more truth in this extravagant idea of Jerry Johnson, 
than he had any notion of. 

The history of submarine telegraphy commences properly with the discovery of 
the properties of gutta perclia as an insulator ; for without this substance, as we 
have observed, there would never have been any Atlantic Telegraph. 

Various attempts had been made by Professor Morse and others, to insulate 
wire with tarred rope, pitch, asphaltum, resin, was, glass, and india rubber, 
between the years 1842 and 1847, but without any satisfactory results. A 
single wire coated with iudia rubber, was laid across the Hudson between Jer- 
sey City and New York, in 1848, by a young man in the service of Professor 
Morse, who had been conducting some experiments at Newark, N. J. But the 
attempt proved a miserable failure. Up to this peri(id it was not believed possible 
to send a current of electricity more than five hundred miles, without relay mag- 
nets, and the great ambition of operators was to be able to cross a river with an 
insulated wire. By one of those happy accidents which oftentimes lead to the 
most important results, a gentleman named Armstrong, of New York, who had 
been to England to obtain information in regard to gutta percha, was returning 
home in a Cunard steamer in the month of September, 1847. Among his fel- 
low passengers, was the late venerable Anthony Fleming, Roman Catholic Bishop 
of Newfoundland ; and. singular as the fiict may appear, the first practical 
idea of the Atlantic Telegraph resulted from the meeting between these two 
chance passengers on this occasion. Bishop Fleming was then eip-hty-four years 
of age, and he had crossed the Atlantic twice a year for more than forty years ; 
and he possessed an immense fund of information, gained by study and jiersonal 
observation respecting the route between Newfoundland and Ireland. The 
venerable prelate was in the habit of taking his morning exercise by pacing the 
deck of the steamer, and while on his morning round he was joined by Mr. Arm- 
strong, the conversation turning upon the conflicting claims of Professor Morse 
and Doctor Jackson, to the priority of invention in the cleetrio telegraph, Mr. 
Armstrong remarked, that he believed the time would come when the ocean, ca 



658 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

well as the land, would ba intersected with telegraphic wires. The Bishop paused, 
and exclaimed, " I have uo doubt of it, whateyer the mind of man can fully measure 
and grasp as a desirable good, the hand of man, guided by the light of a culti- 
vated intellect, with God's blessing, may accomplish. I believe this thing will 
be done ; for Jehovah hath declared that He will put His lightnings about the 
earth." From this time the conversation was continued, and Jlr. Armstrong- 
kept the great object constantly in his thoughts. On his arrival in New York, 
he organized the American Gutta Porcha Company ; and, in the fall of 1848, 
he discovered the insulating properties of the new material which was thence- 
forward to perform so many important services in the economical arts of the 
world. The machinery for covering wire with gutta percha, was made in the 
same year, and the first order for insulated wire, was received from the agent 
of the Morse Telegraph Company, for a quantity of iron wire to be used in 
crossing the Hudson River. The work was executed, and in August, 1849, the 
first piece of .submerged telegraphic wire was laid and found to work per- 
fectly. While this piece of cable was being made in Brooklyn, at the 
works of the Gutta Percha Company, an Englishman named Naylcr, who 
was employed in the works, suddenly left, and carrying the plan over to 
England, he there sold it as his own discovery, and received it is said 
a hundred thousand dollars for the patent. The next application for the 
sub-marine cable, came from Col. Tal. P. Shaffner, President of the St. 
Louis and New Orleans Telegraph Company, to lay under the Ohio and Missis- 
sippi rivers ; and then followed applications from a great many other quarters, 
and thus the first great step was taken towards the creation of the Atlantic 
cable. An insulator had been found and all the rest was but a matter of time. 
The crowning achievement was sure to come, sooner or later, and it has come, 
unlike most great works, sooner than was anticipated. Our great pride in this 
work may be honestly maintaine<l, for it is purely the achievement of American 
skill, genius, and enterprise ; and at every step it has owed the impulse which 
led to the completion, to our own countrymen ; first by Franklin and last by 
Field. And there is in this matter many wonderful things yet to be developed, 
which will redound to the credit of our countrymen. In a manuscript poem 
by Joel Barlow, the author of the Columhiad, entitled the " The Canoe," and 
addressed to Robert Fulton, there is just as clear and distinct a description of 
the electric telegraph as though it had been written after Morse's invention 
had been made known. 

By the year 1849 Mr. Armstrong had completed his plan for a sub- Atlantic 
cable from Newfoundland to Ireland, differing but slightly from that which has 
since been so successfully carried out, and it was published in some of th-j 
New York daily papers in 1850. A piece of ocean cable was made at the 
Brooklyn Gutta Percha AVorks, composed of four pieces of small insulated iron 
wires, which has been the basis of all the telegraphic cables since manufactured. 
This piece of cable was made from a design by Mr. Henry L. Stewart, of New 
York, who intended it for exhibition at the great World's Fair in London. 

In the spring of 1851 a new project was started in Newfoundland and Eng- 
land, by Mr. P. N. Gisborne, for organizing a telegraph company. It was 
called the Newfoundland and London Telegraph Company; but it was not 
eucccssful. After this there were various sub-marine telegraphs laid in Europe, 



OF AMERICANS. 659 

the first of which was from England to France, across the Straits of Dover, 
and the next was tlio cable from England to Ireland, across the Irish Channel. 

The first Atlantic telegraph company having proved an ahortive organiza- 
tion, a new one was formed in the year 185i, Messrs. Peter Cooper and CyriLS 
W. Field being the leading stockholders engaged in it, and it is owing to the 
courage and perseverance of these eminent New Yorkers, that the company was 
enabled to carry on the great project to a successful termination. The charter 
of the company was obtained in April, 1854, from the Colonial Government of 
Newfoundland ; the act being entitled "An Act Incorporating a Company for 
the Establishment of Telegraphic Commuuicutiou between Europe and America." 
The company was thenceforth known as "The New York, Newfoundland, and 
London Telegraph Company." It received various grants from the Govern- 
ment of Newfoundland, subsequently from that of Nova Scotia and New 
Brunswick, and finally from the Crown of England and the Congress of the 
United States. To avoid the necessity of recun-ing to this topic, we state at 
once the entire series of dotations bestowed upon the organization. 

NEWFOUNDLAND. 

Esclusive privileges for fifty years of landing cables on Newfoundland, 
Labrador, and their dependencies. 

The exclusive right embraces a coast line extending from the entrance of 
Hudson's Straits, southwardly and westwardly along the coasts of Labrador, 
Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and the 
State of Maine, and their respective dependencies. 

Grant of fifty square miles of land on completion of telegraph to Cajie 
Breton. 

Similar concession of additional fifty square miles, when the cable shall have 
been laid between Ireland and Newfoundland. 

Guarantee interest for twenty years at five per cent on £50,000. 

Grant of £5,000 in money towards building road along the lino of the tele- 
graph. 

Remission of duties on importation of all wires and materials for the use of 
the company. 

PRINCE EDWAKD ISLAND. 

Exclusive privilege for fifty years of landing cables. 

Free grant of one thousand acres of land. 

A grant of £300 currency per annum for ten years. 

CANADA. 

Act authorizimr the building of telegraph lines throughout the Provinces. 
Remission of duties on all wires and materials imported for the u.se of the 
company. 

NOVA SCOTIA. 

Grant of exclusive privilege for twenty-five years, of landing telegraphic 
cables from Europe on the shores of tliis Province. 

STATE OF MAINE. 

Similar grant of esclusive privilege for like period of twentv-five years. 
42 



660 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

GKBAT BRITAIN. 

Annual subsidy of £14,000 sterling, until tbe net profits of the company 
reaches sLs per cent per annum, on the whole capital of £350,000 sterling, the 
grant then to be reduced to £10,000 sterling, per annum, for a period of twenty- 
five years. 

The aid of two of the largest steamships in the English navy to lay the 
cable, with two subsidiary steamers. 

A government steamship to take any further needful soundings, and verify 
those already taken. 

UNITED STATES. 

Annual subsidy of $70,000 until the net profits yield six per cent per 
annum, then to be reduced to !|50,000 per annum, for a period of twenty-five 
years, subject to termination of contract by Congress after ten years, on giving 
one year's notice. 

The United States steamship Arctic to make and verify soundings. 

Steamships Niagara and Susquehanna, to assist in laying the cable. 

A government steamer to make further soundings on the coast of New- 
foundland. 

The company having appointed Professor Morse their electrician, next pro- 
ceeded to connect St. Johns, Newfoundland, with the lines already in operation 
in the British North American Provinces, and iu the United States, by immers- 
ing thirteen miles of cable across the Straits of Northumberland, and eighty-five 
miles in the waters of the St. Lawrence. England and the Continent had 
already been connected with Ireland, irrespective of any design to extend the 
telegraphic communication towards the West. There therefore remained only 
a single gap to be filled in — the basin of the Atlantic itself. 

It will be seen that though so much material assistance was rendered by 
Great Britain in this splendid undertaking, that it was essentially an American 
work, and that American enterprise and genius secured the great result at 
which all their efforts were aimed. The soundings of the Atlantic, preparatory 
to laying the cable, were the work of an American naval officer, directed by 
the scientific labors of Lieutenant Maury of our naval service. The Company 
was particularly fortunate in obtaining the services of such an enterprising man 
as Mr. Field, who was made vice president, and finally general manager of 
the affairs of the Company. Messrs. Bright and Whitehouse, the English engi- 
neer and electrician, did not prove so elBcient, and in fact they had to be super- 
seded by Americans. 

The operations of making the cable in England, and obtaining the money, 
may be passed over, and wo come at once to the first start of the first tele- 
graphic squadron on its grand expedition, the most momentous naval under- 
taking that the world has witnessed since the embarkation of Columbus on his 
first voyage of discovery in search of a now world. 

At Queenstown, better known as the Cove of Cork, both ends of the cable 
were joined, and electrical experiments were made — establishing the fact that 
signals could be passed through the 2,500 miles of cable in the most satisfactory 
manner. At C p. u., Aug-ust 3, 1857, the telegraph squadron steamed out of 



OF AMERICANS. ggj 

the harbor for Valcntia Bay, where the great ocean cable was to be first laid 
down. On the following day the fleet arrived at Valcntia. It cous st J If 
e.ght sh,ps : The United States steam-frigate m.ara, (1) to lay ha he lb e 
rom Ireland and 2) her attendant the United States steam-frigate Sasgue- 
lu^nna ; (3) the Lnued States steamer Arct,c, to make further soundings on' he 

h";;! „;:'""'>?''■ ^'^ *''' ^■^"'^^ «'="- ^*— F,w..„toii 1 1 

he Jr nf' ,? r, ^''"'^'r"""'' ' (') ^- ^- ^'- '''^^'^ Agamemnon, to lay 
the half of the cable on the American side ; (6) n. M. steamer Leopanl, I 
attend upon the Agamemucn ,- (7) H. M. steamer Cydops, to go ahead of the 

?z:;2 '^Vir'" '-' ^'^ ^- ''■ ''-- ''-' ^ -'- - ^-^- 

On the afternoon of August 5, the end of the cable of the Atlantic telegraph 

t formally irom the officers and crew of the ma^ara and Susquehanna, who 

b!voflM . J?*""' •=^'"^'^°^^ built for the purpose. The beautiful 

bay of ^ alentia was then crowded with vessels filled with enthusiastic spceta- 

tors of the imposmg ceremony, and an immense multitude on the mainland 

the firsf.n > °Pf '■f/°°^:'"; '-S^' '"''^■■'^^t- 'i'he Lord Lieutenant was among 
he first to lay hold of the shore rope of the cable, which was dragged up the 
beach by the American seamen ; and, as he did so, he delivered a spirit-stiiTing 
address to the people now gathered around him. And so, with prayers and 
hopes for their prosperity, the Atlantic telegraph squadron set sail. 

Af t/'-',*:°.,"'° ^P'*"* '"''^•""•^■■y for paj-ing out, which was invented by 
Mr. Bright tlie engineer, on the 11th, after the Nmgara had successfully paid 
oat 330 nautical miles, the cable broke. There was a heavy swell on at the 
time. The whole civilized world heard the melancholy news of this sad acci- 
dent wi h a feeling of despondency. But the manager of the enterprise was not 
the kind of man to be disheartened, and amid a season of greater commercial 
depression han Europe and America had known in twenty years, efforts were 
at ones made for recommencing the work the followino- year 

The first fai^lure in the attempt to lay the cable was° justly attributed to the 
deective machinery invented by Bright, the English engineer, for paying it 
o. , and unless an improvement in this machine could be produced, it was hope- 
ess to anticipate a more fortunate termination of another attempt. Happ ly 
for the good of mankind, at this juncture of affairs, there came forlard a youn^ 
Amei-ican inventor who ha.l before conferred great benefits npon the cominunit; 
by his genius, whose fertility of invention supplied the desired machine. This 
was Mr. Iliram Berdan, of New York, the inventor of the Autoniatic oven 
n.s machine was submitted to Mr. Everett, the engineer. Captain Hudson of 

Tel^TTr' ^r ^^^"^'•'•=''«' other gentlemen connected with the 

Telegraph Company, before they left New York to make preparations in Eng- 
land for he secoiid trip. They took with them the model of the niaehine which 
M. Berdan fiirmshed, and the machine which was constructed for laying the 
cable, and by which the work- was at last successfully accomplished, was made 
m conformity to it ; but Mr. Everett seemed not to remember to whom he wa. 
indebted (or his invention, and so, at first, he obtained all the credit for it him- 
self. In all the accounts furnished by the operators themselves, no mention 
was made of Mr. Berdun's name. But, as he had talcen the precaution to take 



662 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEYEMENTS 

out patents for his machine, both in this country and England, there were sub- 
stantial evidences of his claims, if he chose to assert them. 

With the exception of the new paying out machinery the only important 
change in the programme for the second expedition was the determination to 
commence laying the cable from mid-ocean instead of beginning at the eastern 
end, as iu the first trial. The Agamemnon and Niagara having been again 
detached for this important service by the two governments, the work of stow- 
ing the cable on beard the Agamemnon was commenced at Keyham Docks on 
Friday, March 19, and on board the Niagara, a few days later. Both ships 
iiad undergone essential modifications. It was found on the first trial, that the 
arrangement of the cable in an oval coil in the hold of the Agamcmnoji tended 
to interfere with the safety of the wire, and in order to prevent future accidents, 
the hold was enlarged by the demolition of two bulkheads, so that the space 
rendered available for storage was now perfectly circular. The bulk of the 
cable received on board this ship was wound around a huge cone, twelve feet 
three inches high, ten feet in diameter at the base, and five feet at the apex. 
(It was the breaking of this cone which afterwards so seriously imperiled the 
Agamemnon, during the heavy storms she encountered in June.) 

The management of the wire on board the Niagara was somewhat different. 
Her share was distributed in six coils, two of which were upon the main deck, 
the weight being divided about equally in different parts of the ship. 

The stowage of the cable on both ships, conducted slowly and with great 
care, occupied several weeks, and was completed in the early part of May. In 
addition to seven hundred miles of new cable provided by the Company, con- 
demned wire was shipped for the purpose of undertaking preliminary deep-sea 
experimenta ; so that the total length of cable on board both ships on the 18tli 
day of May, was 3,004 miles, distributed as follows : 

Niagara — Good cable 1,488, 

Experimental cable 22 — l,f)10 

Agamemnon — Good cable 1,477 

Experimental cable • . ... 17 — 1,494 



-Good cable 2,965 

Experimental cable 39 



Total, 3,004 

The shipment having been completed, the Niagara and Agamemnon sailed 
for Queenstown, Ireland, on Saturday, May 29. 

The fleet started on an experimental trip in the Bay of Biscay, which was 
everything but successful, and on the 10th of June, the fleet, consisting of the 
Niagara and Agamemnon, attended by the steamers Valorous and Gorgon, 
started for their place of rendezvous in mid- Atlantic, to make the second at- 
tempt to lay the cable. 

The ships encountered a succession of hea\'y gales, which prevented their 
junction at the rendezvous (lat. 52° 02'; long. 33^^ IS') until the 2Gth of June. 
On that day the cable was spliced, and the Niagara and Agamemnon com- 
menced paying out. Two miles and forty fathoms were out when (at 1 45 p.m.) 



OF AMERICA>'S. 663 

the cable \\as thrown c>Q' tlic wheel iu the attempt to shift the Niagara's por- 
tion from one groove to another. The wire came ia coulact with the tar-scraper, 
aud was sevcreii. This was failure No. 1. At 5.20 p.m., on the same day. a 
new splice was made, and the ships again started — the Niagara heading for 
Newfoundland, the Agameinnon for Ireland. The cable now ran out from the 
Niagara at the rate of three and a half knots an hour, until 4.50 a.m. of the 
27th, when the electricians reported that the continuity had ceased. This was 
failure No. 2. Pursuant to previous agreement, both ships now retraced their 
course, aud met ag-ain at the rendezvous on Monday, June 28. At the time of 
the second breakage, forty-two miles aud three hundred fathoms had been paid 
out from the Niagara, and about the same amount from the Agatnemaon. 

The third splice was made in the evening of June 28. The ships again se- 
parated, and each took its course, proceeding slowly. At six o'clock on the 
night of the 29th, communication again ceased, and at 11 p.m. the Niagara 
stopped paying out. In order to test the strength of the wire, the Niagara 
was allowed to ride by the cable till it parted. Although the wind was fresh, 
the cable held the enormous bulk of the vessel one hour and forty mmuks be- 
fore breaking, with a strain of four tons applied to the brakes. Failure No. 3 
having demonstrated the necessity of postponing the work, the Niagara headed 
for Ireland ; having paid out and lost an aggregate length of one hundred and 
forty-two miles, and two hundred aud eighty fathoms. 

All hope now vanished of being able to complete the great work. The most 
sanguine came to the conclusion that a new cable must be made, a new machine 
invented for paying it out, and a monster be built expressly to contain the 
entire cable. But the ships having still a sufEeieutly large quantity of cable 
on board, it was determined by the Directors of the Company to make a third 
attempt, rallier iu desperation, than from any sanguine hopes of success. The 
ships accordingly were again despatched from Queenstown, and their departure 
hardly was noticed by the Press, so little importance was attached to the 
enterprise then. But the old adage, that the third time wins the game, was 
never verified in a more remarkable manner, than in the success of this third 
attempt to lay the cable. The expedition left Queenstown on the 18th of July, 
1858, and on the 5tli of August, New York, and all other parts of the country 
were suddenly startled by the announcement that the Niagara had arrived 
safely at Trinity Bay, and that the cable had been successfully laid. The news 
at first was discredited, people were staggered by its greatness ; but a second 
dispatch from Mr. Field confirmed the happy intelligence, and then the whole 
country broke out in a wild jubilation of bell-ringing and hurraing such its 
had never before been heard since the year 1814, when the news of peace 
between Great Britain and the United States was announced. The intolligence 
would have been aimounecd one day sooner had the operators at Trinity Bay 
been on hand to atti^nd to their duty. 

We can only faintly conceive of the triumphant feelings of Mr. Field on 
landing at Trinity Bay with tlie end of the cable iu his liand. Some such 
emotions as moved the l)lood of Columbus when he first landed upon the shores 
of the New World, must have been his. In narrating the event to a circle of 
friends immediately after his return to New York, Mr. Field said : 

" Just as soon as the cable was fairly ashore, we seized it, all hands, officers 



664 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 

and men, just as firemen man the ropes, and started up the hill. We were so 
excited that there was hardly a word spoken, and we didn't think of the mud 
and rocks and stumps in the trench ; it was the most anxious moment of my 
life. We wanted to see if the signals were still passing, so I stopped and put 
out my tongue to the end of the wire, and the signal sent me tumbling. I 
didn't care, didn't feci anything ; we pushed right along. The distance up to 
the station is only half a mile, but it seemed forty ; and when we got there at 
last, the house was dark and still. I hunted around for a door, and finally 
found a back-door, but it seemed an age before I could get in. We marched 
right into a pile of men asleep on the floor. — " Hullo ! who's there ! what's 
wanting ? '' " Want you to start up aud go and help us land the cable ! " — 
they didn't understand me ; — " where 's the operators ? '' — these were carpenters, 
— " up stairs," they said ; so I stumbled up aud found them asleep in their 
bunks. We roused them out in short order, and there they stood in their 
shirts — rubbing their eyes and trying to get it through their heads that we 
had come, at last. At fii'st they couldn't say anything or do anything ; I never 
saw men so astonished I But they found their tongues at last." 

The electricians found some difficulty, at first, in working the telegraph, but 
on the 17th of August the first message was transmitted across the cable, 
being the congratulatory dispatch of Queen Victoria to President Buchanan. 
So the great event of the century was at last a fixed fact, and the two con- 
tinents were brought within speaking distance of each other. 



-i^i—— iijij 




A COLLECTION 



CHOICE AMERICAN POETEY 



PATRIOTIC, DOMESTIC, RELIGIOUS, SENTIMENTAL, HUMOROUS, Etc. 



"YOUNG AMERICA TAKING HIS 
FIRST STEPS." 

COKA M. EAGER. 

The followin? lines are from a young lady 
of Cincinnati. They were sugsested by the 
beautiful design made for us by Mr. 1*. 0. 
C. Darley, which we have entitled as 
above, and «how in the well rendered il- 
lustration on the opposite leaf, — engraved 
byMr. K. D. llayes. 

You toililling. Jaiuty, winsome elf, 

You brightest, dearest joy, 
Your father's very second self, 

And grandpa's priceless toy ; 
Spread ont your tiny, tender feet. 

So roimded like a boll — 
1 '11 welcome you with kisses sweet, 

Aud catch you if you fall. 

And when iiuu-casing sti'ength shall lead 

Your bounding steps away, 
KvA Vice, mayhap, in after years. 

Shall tempt you far astray, 
My love shall win you gently back. 

My ready arm uphold — 
Your mother's heart is held, my boy, 

J3y stronger chains than gold ! 

-And then I '11 tell you how a cbild 

Its native land forsook, 
.\ud wamler'd wearily beyond 

The valley and the brook ; 
I'll tell you how its crndle-hcd 

Was rock'd ly servile hands — 
That 'tvras uot Vice but Liberty 

That lur'd to other lands. 

And how he climb'd the mountain's height, 

Nor laid him down to rest. 
But proy'd a mother's love would light 

His pathwiiy to the West ; 
And how that loyal mother spurn'd 

The oir-pring of her youth ; 
And how God led him boldlv ou 

To battle for tbo Tra'.h ; 



How cv'ry onward step was blood, 

Aud every foot-pii)it fire; 
And how his little heart reach'd up 

Aud grasp'd at something higher. 
He grew to manhood, wise and strong. 

All nations call him brother — 
'T is " YouiNG America," my boy, 

And England is the mother ! 

And now she looks with regal pnde 

Upon her noble son. 
And blesses Him whose better love 

H,is knit their hearts iu one. 
And thus I bless the Hand, my boy. 

That gave my life its crown — 
Be Love thy lance, bo Truth thy shielil. 

And Virtue thv renown. 



LINES ON THE DEATH OE CAPTAIN 
NATHAN HALE. 

" TUE HERO MARTYR OF THE AMERICAS 
REVOLUTION." 

FRANCIS MILES FINCH. 

The dyin? words of the young patriot were, 
" My only regret is that 1 have but one life 
to lose for my country!" 

To drnni-beat and heart-beat, 

A soldier passes by ; 
There is color in his check. 

There is courage in his eye ; 
Yet to drum-beat aud heart- beat. 

In a moment lie must die! 

By star-liglit and moon-light 
He seeks the Biitou's camp ; 

He hears the rnstling Hag, 

And the arnicd sentry s tramp : 

And the star-light and moon-light. 
His silcut wanderings lamp. 

With slow tread and still tread. 

He scans the tented line , 
Aud he :,ounts the batterv-pnus 
(065) 



66(5 



SELECT AMERICAN POETIIY. 



By the laimt ami shadowy piue 
And his slow tread and still tiuiid 
Give uo nariiiug sigu. 

The dark wave, the plumed wave I 

It meets his eager glance ; 
And it sparkles 'ueath the stars, 

Like the glimmer of a lauce ; 
A dark wave, a plumed wave, 

Ou au emerald espause. 

A sharp (diiiig, a steel claug 1 

And terror in the sound; 
For the sentry, I'aleou-eycd, 

In the camp a spy hath found : 
With a sharp clang, a steel clang, 

The patriot is bound. 

With calm brow, steady brow. 

He listens to his doom ; 
In his look there is no fear, 

Nor a shatlow-ti'ace of gloom ; 
But with calm brow, and steady brow, 

lie robes lam for the tomli. 

In the long night, the still night, 

He kneels upon the sod ; 
And the brutal guanis withhold 

E'en the solemn Word of God ! 
lu the long night, the still night, 

He walks where Christ hath trod. 

'Neath the blue morn, the sunny morn. 

He dies upon the tree ; 
And he motirus that he can lose 

But oue life for Liberty : 
And the blue morn, the sunny morn. 

His spirit-wings are free. 

But bis kst words, his message words. 
They burn, lest friendly eye 

Should read how proud aud calm 
A patriot could die ; 

With his last words, his dying words, 
A soldier's battle-cry 1 

From Fame-leal' and Angel-leal, 

From monument and nru. 
The sad of Earth, the glad of Heaven, 

His tragic fate shall learn ; 
And ou Fame-leaf and Angel-leaf, 

The nameof Halk shall buru. 



TO MY MOTHER. 



The follfiwins lines, written liy a convict of 
the Ohio Penitentiary, are touehingly 
beautiful : 



I've wandered far from thee, mother. 
Far from my happy home ; 

I've left the land tliat gave me birth, 
lu other climes to roam ; 



And time, since then, has rj'.led its years. 
And marked them on n^y brow: 

Yet 1 have olten thought ( i' tUce — 
I'm thinking of thee now 

I'm thinking on the day, mother. 

When at my tender sice 
Y'ou watched the dawuin<, of my youth. 

And kissed me iii your pi ide ; 
Then brightly was my heart I't up 

With hopes of future joy, 
While your bright fancy houois wove. 

To deck your darling boy. 

I'm thinking on the day, mother, 

Wheu, with anxious care. 
You lifted up your heart tq heaven — 

Your hope, yonr trust was there; 
Sad memory brings youj' parting words. 

While tears roll'd dowu your cliKck ; 
Y'our long, last, loving look told more 

Than ever words could speak. 

I'm far away from thee, mother, 

No friend is near Me now, 
To soothe me with a tender word. 

Or cool my aching brow ; 
The dearest ties affcetion wove. 

Are now all toru irom me ; 
They left me wheu the trouble came 

They did not love like thee. 

I'm lonely aud forsaken new, 

Uupiticd aud unblest ; 
Yet still I wonlil not let you know 

How sorely I'm distressed ; 
I know you would not chide me, mother 

I know yon would not blame 
But soothe me with your tender words, 

And bid me hope again. 

I vrnuld not have thee know, mother. 

How brightest hopes decay ; 
The tempter, with his baleful cup, 

H.as dashed them all away ; 
And sliame has left its veiu)med sting, 

To rack with anguish wild — 
O no I I would not have thee know 

The sorrow of thy child. 

! I have wandered far, mother. 

Since I deserted thee, 
And left thy trusting heart to break. 

Beyond the deep blue sea ; 
O 1 mother, still I love thee well. 

Would 1 couKl hear thcc speak. 
And feel again thy balmy breath 

Upon my care-worn check. 

But all I there is a thonght, mother. 

Pervades my bleeding breast. 
That thy freed" spirit may have flown 

To its eternal rest ; 
And while I wipe the tear away. 

There whispers in my ea;- 
A voice that speaks of heaven and thee, 

Aud bids me meet thee there. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



067 



FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. 

HENKY WADSWOltrn LONGFELLOW. 

Boru at I'orthiml in 1?0T— I'rofcssor in lliir- 
vard Uiuvor:?ity. 

When the hours of ilay are uunibcr'il, 

."^ud the voices of the Niglit 
Wake tlie better soul that slunibcr'd 

To a holy, calm JeHj^lit; 

Tav the cveninpt lamps are lighted, 
And, like phantoms grim and tall, 

Shadows from the fiU'iil fiie-light 
Dauee npon the parlor-wall ; 

Then the forms of the departed 

Enter at the open door ; 
The beloved ones, the true-hearted. 

Come to visit me ouee more ; 

He, the yotine nud strong, who cherish'd 
Xiiblo loiiginu's fortho fstrife — • 

By the road-side fell and perished, 
Weary with the raareh of life ! 

They, the holy ones and iveakly, 
Who the eross of suffering bore — 

Folded their pale hands so meekly — 
Spake with us on earth uo more ! 

.\ud with them the Being Beauteous, 
Who unto ray youth was given, 

More than all things else to love me, 
.\ud is now a saint in heaven. 

With slow and noiseless footstep. 
Comes that messenger diviue. 

Takes the vacant ehair beside me, 
Lays her gentle hand in mine. 

.\nd she sits and giizes at me. 
With those deep and tender eyes. 

Like the stars, so still and saint-like. 
Looking downward from the skies. 

[Jtter'd not. yet eomprehended, 
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer. 

Soft rebukes, in blcssiugs ended. 
Breathing from her lips of air. 

O, though oft oppress'd and lonely. 

All my fears arc laid aside, 
If I but remember only 

Sueh as the--e have lived and died ! 



A CASTLE IX THE AIR. 

LEVI KKISIIIE. 

Professor in Harvard University— Died in 
IPK. 

I '11 tell you, friend, what sort of wife. 
Whene'er I scan this scene of life. 

Inspires my waking schemes, 
.\nd when I sleep, with form so light. 
Dances befoie my vavish'd sight, 

lu sweet aerial di'eams. 



The rose its blushes necJ not lend. 
Nor yet the lily with them blend. 

To e.Tptivat(^ my eyes. 
Give mc a cheek the heart obeys, 
And, sweetly nuUablc, displays 

Its feelings as they I'ise ; 

J'eatnvcs, where, pensive, more than guy, 
.Save when a n^iug smile doth play. 

The sober tiiought you see ; 
Eyes that all soft and tender seem. 
And kind alVeetions around them beam. 

But most of all on me ; 

A form, though not of fiiiest mould. 
Where yet a something you behold 

Uneeusciously doth please ; 
Manners all Kiaeeful without art. 
That to each look and word impart 

A modesty and ease. 

But still her air, lier face, each charm 
llust speak a heart with feeling warm, 

And mind inform the whole ; 
Witli mind her mantling cheek mubt p;low, 
Her voice, her beaming eye miut show 

An all-inspiriug soul. 

Ah ! could I such a being find. 
And were her late to mine but join'd 

By Hymen's silken tie. 
To her myself, my all I 'd give, 
For her alone delighted live, 

For her consent to die. 

Whene'er by anxious care oppress'd. 
On the soft pillow of her breast 

My aching head I 'd lay ; 
At her sweet smile each care should cease, 
Her kiss infu'e a balmy peace, 

Anil drive my griefs away. 

In turn, I 'd soften all her care, [share ; 
Each thought, each wish, each feeling 

Should sickness e'er invade, 
Jly voice should soothe each rising .Mgh, 
My hand the cordial should supply ; 

1 'd watch beside her bed. 

Should gathering clouds our sky deform, 
My arm should sliield her from the storm j 

And. were its fury hurl'd. 
My bosom to its bolts I 'd bare ; 
In her defense undaunted dare 

Defy the opposing \Yorld. 

Together should our ])raycrs ascend ; 
Together would we humb.y bend, 

To piaise the .Mniighty luinie ; 
And when I s.-iw her kindling eye 
Beam up\\ard in her native sky. 

My soul should catch the llamr. 

Thus nothing should our hearts divide. 
But on our years serenely glide, 

And all to love be given ; 
And. wlicn life's little scene was o'er. 
We 'd part to meet and part no more, 

But live and love in heaven. 



6GS 



SELECT AMERICAN POETEY. 



STANZAS. 

KICHARD IIENKY "n'lLDE. 

iBorn in 17S9, fLnd iiasscd liis youtU in Bal- 
timore — RGprcscntativc in Congress from 

. Georgia— Died ]»:'47, in New Orleans, then 
Profedsor of Law in tho University of Lou- 
isiana.] 

Mr life is like the summer rose 

That opens to tlic moiiiing sky. 
But ere the shades of eveuiuo: close, 

Is scattered on the ground — to die 1 
Yet ou the rose's humble hed 
The sweetest dews of night are shed, 
As if she wept the waste to see — 
But noue shall w.cep ii tear for me ! 

My life is like the autumn lea. 

That trembles in the moou's pale ray, 
Its hold is frail — its date is brief. 

Restless — and soon to pass away ! 
Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and lade. 
The parent tree will mourn its shade. 
The winds bewail the leafless tree. 
But none shall breathe a sigh for mc ! 

My life is like the piints, which feet 

Have left ou Tampa's desert straud ! 
Soon as the rising tide shall beat, 

All tiace will vanish from the saud ; 
Yet, as if grieving to effiice 
All vestige of the human race, 
On that lone shore loud moaus the sea. 
But none, alas ! shall moui-n for me ! 



THE AMERICAN I'LAG. 



JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. 

[Born in Now York in 1795 — Died in 1S20 nf 
consumption, in his 26th year — A beautiful 
poem to his memory by his friend Halleok 
13 in this collection.] 



When Freedom from her mountaiu height 

Uufurl'd her standard to the air, 
She tore the azure i*ol)e of night, 

.\nd set the stars of glory there. 
Slie mingled with its gorgeous dyes 
'J'he milky baldric of the skies, 
.\Md striped its pure, celestial white 
Witli streakings of the morning light ; 
Thcu from his iiKinsiou in the sun 
She call'd her e.agle bearer down, 
And gave into his mighty hand 
The symbol of her chosen land. 

II. 
Majestic monarch of the cloud, 

Who rear'st aloft thy regal form. 
To hear the tempest trumpings loud 
And see the lightning lances driven, 

When stiivc the warriois of the storm. 



And rolls the thunder-drum of hearen— 
Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given 

To guard the banner of the free. 
To hover in the sulphur smoke, 
To ward away the baltlc-stroke, 
.\nd bid its blcndings shine afar. 
Like rainbows on the cloud of war. 

The harbingers of victory ! 

III. 
Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly. 
The sign of hope and triumph high. 
Wlien speaks the signal trumpet tone, 
And tlie long line comes gleaming ou. 
Ere yet the life-blood, wainiand wet. 
Has dimm'd the glistening bayonet. 
Each soldier eye shall brightly turn 
To where thy sky-boni glories burn ; 
And as his springing steps advance, 
Catch war'and vengeance from the glance. 
And when the cannon mouthings loud 
He.ive in wild wreaths the battle-shroud, 
And gory sabers rise and fall 
Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall ; 

Then shall thy meteor glances glow. 
And cowering foes shall sink beneath 

Each gallant arm that strilvcs below 
That lovely messenger of death. 

IV. 

Flag of the seasl ou ocean wave 
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave; 
When death, careering on the gale, 
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail. 
And frighted waves rush wildly back 
Before the broadside's reeling rack. 
Each dying wanderer of the sea 
Shall look at once to heaven and thee, 
And smile to see thy splendors fly 
In triumph o'er his closing eye. 

V. 

Flag of the free heart's hojie and home I 

By angel hands to valor given ; 
The stars have lit the welkin douie, 

And all thy hues were horn in heaven. 
Forever float that standard sheet I 

W'here breathes the foe but falls before us 
"With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, 

Aud Freedom's banner streaming o'e:r us ! 



FAMILY MEETING. 



CHARLES SrRAGUE. 

[Born in Boston in 1701— Cashier of Globe 
Bank, Boston — This poem v,-as written on 
the accidental meotinj; of all thcsurviving 
members of a family.] 

'We are all here ! 

Father, mother. 

Sister, brother, 
All who hold each other dear. 
E.aeh chair is fill'd — we're all at hnme ; 
To-night let no cold stranger eome : 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



66D 



It is not often thus niouud 
Oui- olJ fumili;ir hcnith we're fuuiid: 
Bless, then, the meeting and the spot; 
For ouce be evevy eare fort^ot; 
I<et gentle Te.iee assert her power, 
And kind Afteetion rule tlic hour; 
We 're all — all here. 

We 'ic not all heie ! 
Some are .iway — the dead ones dear. 
Who thronged' with us this ancient hearth. 
And gave the hour to guiltless mirth. 
Fate, with a stern, releutless hand, 
Look'd in. and thiun'd our little band: 
Some, like a uight flash, passed away. 
And some sauk, liugering, day by day; 
The quiet graveyard — some lie there — • 
And cruel Ocean has his share — 

We 're not all here. 

We are all here! 
Even they — the dead — though dead, so 

dear; 
Fond Memory, to her duty true. 
Brings back their faded forms to view. 
How life-like, through the mist of years. 
Each well-remeu)hered face appears! 
We see them in times long past; 
From each to each kind looks are east; 
We licar tlioir words, their smiles behold; 
They're round us as they were of old — 

We are all here. 

We are all here! 

]''athcr. mother. 

Sister, hrotlicr, 
Ydu tl.i.i, 1 love witli love 60 dear. 
nis may not hrag of us be said; 
Soon must we joiu the gathcr'd dead; 
And by the hearth we now sit round, 
Some otlier circle will be fouud. 
O! then, that wisdom mtiy we know, 
Which yields a life of pence below! 
Ho, in tlic world to follow this, 
M:iv eai'h repeat, in tones of bliss. 

Wo 're all — all here! 



SPAKKI.ING AND BRICillT. 



CnABLE.s: FES.VO nOFFMAK. 

Born in New York in IfOC — Original cdiKr 
of Knickerbocker Magazine. 

Sparkling and bright in liquid light 

Does the wine our goblets gleam in, 
M'ith hue as red as the rosy bed 

Wliirli a bee wtnild chiMtse to drc:fm in. 
Then fill to-night w ith hearts as light 

To loves as gay and fleeting 
As bubbles that swim ou the beaker's 
brim. 
And break on the lips while meet- 
ing. 



0! if Mirth might arrest the fli.ght 

Of Tinie through Life's dominions, 
We here awhile would now beguile 
Tlie grayhcard of his pinions. 

To driuk to-night with hearts as light. 

To loves as gay and fleeting 
As bubbles that swim on the beaker's 
brim. 
And break on the lips while meeting. 

But since delight can't tcmiit the wight. 

Nor fond regret delay hiui. 
Nor Love himself can hold the elf. 
Nor sober Fiiendship stay him. 

We'll drink to-night with hearts b3 
light, 
To loves as gay and fleeting 
As bubbles that swim on the beaker's 
brim. 
And break on the lips while meeting. 



SONG 

OP THE THREE HU.NDRED THOUSAND DRDNK- 
ARllS m THE UNITED STATES. 

KEV. TVJI. n. TAPrAN. 

Born at Beverly, Mass. in 1794 — For twenty- 
seven years was in the service of the Amer- 
ican Sunday School Union— Died in 1849. 

We come! we come! with sad array, 

And in procession long. 
To join the army of the lost — 

Three hundred thousand strong. 

Onr banners, beckoning ou to death, 

Abroad we have unrolled; 
And Famine, Care, and wan Despair, 

Are seen on every fold. 

Ye heard what music cheers us on — 

The mother's cry, that rang 
So wildly, and the babe's that wailed 

Above the trumpet's clang. 

We've taken spoil; and blighted joys 

And ruined homes are here; 
We 've trampled on the throbbing heart. 

And flouteil sorrow's tear. 

We come! we come! we've searched the 
land, 

The rich and jioor are ours — 
Enlisted from the shrines of God, 

From hovels and from towci'S. 

And who or what shall balk the brave. 
Who swear to drink and die^ 

What boots to such man's muttered curse, 
Or His that spans the skyS 

Our leader! who of .all the chiefs. 

Who've triumphed from the firet. 
Can blazini deeds like bi.^'i such priefe. 

Such wounds, such tronhics curst. 



670 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



We oniiii?! or thr. wnrld's scourges, who 

Like bill! have overthi-oAvn'i 
What wo LnJ L'ver earth, like wo 

To his stern prowess known'! 

Oiwaril! though ever on onr inarch 
Hant; I\Iiser) 's conutless train; 

Onward for hell! — from rank to rank 
Pass we the cup again! 

Wccomc! we come! to fill onv graves. 

On which shall sliine no star; 
To iilnt the worm that never dies — 

Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! 



A. WHALING SONG. 

JOHN OSBORN. 

Born on Cnnc Cod Bay, Mass., in 1713— Edu- 
cated at Harvard — l)ied in 1T53 — Thi.s song 
is widelypopular with whalemen. 

When spring returns with western gales, 

And gentle hreezes sweep 
The rufiiing seas, we spread our sails 

To plow the watery deep. 

For killing northern whales prepared, 

Our nimble boats on board, 
With craft and rum (onr chief regard) 

And good provisions stored, 

Cape Cod, our dearest native land, 

We leave astern, and lose 
Its sinking cliffs and less'ning sands, 

While Zephyr gently blows. 

Bold, hardy men, with blooming age, 

Our sandy shores produce; 
With monstrous fish they dare engage. 

And dangerous callings choose. 

Now toward the early dawning east 

We speed onr course away. 
With eager minds, and joyful hearts. 

To meet the rising day. 

Then, as we turn our wondering eyes, 

We view one constant show; 
Above, ai-ound, the circling skies, 

The rolling seas below. 

When castw.ard. clear of Newfoundland, 

We stem the frozen pole. 
We see the i, v islands s!ind. 

The northern billows roll. 

As to the north we make our way. 

Surprising scenes we find; 
We lengthen out the tcdions day, 

And leave the night behind. 

Now see the northern regions, whero 

Etemal winter reigns; 
One day and night fills np the year, 

ind endless cold maintains. 



We view the monsters of the deep. 
Great whales in numerous swarms; 

And creatures there, that play and leap, 
Of strange, unusual forms. 

When in our station we are placed, 
And whales around lis play. 

We launch our boats into the main. 
And swiilly chase our prey. 

In haste we ply our nimble oars, 

lor an assault dcsign'd. 
The sea beneath ns foams and roars 

And leaves a wake behind. 

A mighty whale we rush upon. 

And in our irons throw; 
She sinks her monstrous body down 

Among the waves below. 

And when she rises out again, 

AVe soon renew the fight; 
Thrust our sharp lances in amain. 

And all her rage excite. 

Enraged, she makes a mighty bound; 

Thick foams the whiten'd sea; 
The waves in circles rise around. 

And widening roll away. 

She thrashes with her tail around. 
And blows her ledd'uing breath; 

She breaks the air, a deaf 'niiig sound. 
While oceau groans beneath. 



From 



with 



numerous wounds, 
flood. 
She stains the frothy seas. 
And gasps, mid blows her latest blood. 
While (juivcriug life decays. 

With joyful hearts we see her die. 

And on the surface lay; 
While all with eager haste apply, 

To save onr deathful prey. 



THE WIFE. 



ANNA PEYKE DINNlES. 

Ecirn in Georgetown, S. C— In 1845, piib- 
lished a. volume of poetry, entitled "Tha 
Floral Year." 



' She .."^unglier wl,lte arms ar..und him 

Thou art all 
That this poor heart can cling to." 

I could have stemm'd misfortune's tide. 

And borne the rich one's sneer. 
Have braved the haughty glance of pride 

Nor slied a single tear. 
I could have smiled on every blow 

From Life's full iinivcr thrown. 
While I might gaze on thee, and know 

I should not be 'alone." 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



G71 



I could — I tliinlc I could have biook'd 

Fi'cu for a time, that tliou 
Upon my fiiJiiij; face liadst look'd 

With less of love than now; 
For then, I should at least have felt 

The sweet hope still my own, 
To win thee liack, and, whilst I dwelt 

On earth, not been "alone." 

But thus ti) sec, fiom day to day. 

Thy hn;j;liteuiiii; eye and check, 
And wateh thy life-sands waste away 

Unnumber'd. slowly, meek; 
To meet thy .^uiiles of tenderness. 

.\nil eateh tlic fcehle tone 
Of kindness, ever l)rcathed to bless. 

And feel, I '11 be " aloue !" 

To mark thy streni^th each hour decay, 

.\nd yet thy liopes grow stronger. 
As, fill'd with heavenward trust, they say, 

"Karth may not claim tliee longer;" 
Nay. dearest, 't is too much — this heait 

Must break wlien thou art gone: 
It must not be; we may not part; 

I could not live "aloue !" 



THE WANTS OF MAN. 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 

Born in 1707 — President of the United .Stales 
from 1825 to 1829— Died in IMS. 



Man wants but liUlo here below, 
Nor wants that little long. 

' Man wants but little liere below, 

Nor wants that little long." 
Tis not with rae exactly so, 

Hut tis so in the song. 
My wants are many, and if told 

Would muster many a score; 
And were each wish a mint of gold, 

I still should long for more. 

Wliat first I want is daily bread, 

And canvas-backs and wine; 
And all the realms of nature spread 

llefore luc when I dine; 
With fourchoice cooks from Fi-ance, besii'e, 

To dress my dinner well; 
Four courses scarcely can provide 

My appetite to quell. 

What next I want, at heavy cost, 

Is eleirant attire; 
Black salilc f\irs for winter's fi-ost, 

.\ud silks for summer's fire; 
Aud Cashmere shawls, and Brussels lace. 

My bosom's fiont to deck. 
And diamonil rings my hands to grace. 

Aud rubies for my neck. 



And then T want a mansi<,u fair, 

.'V itwcUing-housc, in style. 
Four stories high, fur wholesome air — 

A massive marble pile; 
With halls for hauqnrlings aud balls, 

.Ml furnished rich and fine; 
With high blood sUuls in fifty stiiUs, 

Aud cellars for my wine. 

1 want a garden and a park, 

My dwelling to surrouud — 
A tlio\isaud acres (bless the mark!) 

With w.alls euconipassed round — 
^^ lien; flocks may range and herds may low 

Aud kids and lambkins play. 
And flowers aud fruits commingled grow. 

All Eden to displ.ay. 

I want, when summer's foliage falls, 

And autumn strips the trees, 
A house within the city's walls, 

For comfort and for ease; 
But here, as space is somewhat scant, 

And acres somewhat rare. 
My house in town 1 only want 

To oecujiy — a square. 

1 want a steward, butler, cooks; 

A coachman, footinau, grooir.3; 
A libraiy of wcU-honud books. 

And pictiirc-garuished rooms; 
CoRREGio's Magdalen, and Night, 

The Matron of the Chair; 
OuiDo's fleet Coursers, in their flight, 

And Claudes at least a pair. 

I want a cabinet profuse 

Of medals, coins, and gems; 
A priiitiug-press, for private use, 

( )f fifty thousand ems; 
And plants, and minerals, and shells; 

AVaima, insects, fishes, birds; 
And every beast on earth that dwells. 

In solitude or herds. 

I w ant a board of burnished plate, 

Of silver and of gold; 
Tureens, of twenty pounds in weight. 

And sculpture's richest mould; 
riatcaus, with chandeliers aud lamps. 

Hates, dishes — all the same; 
And porcel.'iin vases, with the stamps 

Of Sevres and Angoulcmc. 

Aud maples, of fair glossy stain. 

Must form my chamber doors. 
And carpets of the Wilton grain 

Must cover all my floors; 
My walls with ta])eslry bedeck'd, 

Must never be outdone; 
.\Md damask curtains must protect 

Their colors from the sun. 

And mirrors of the largest pane 
h'rom A'enico nln^t be brought; 

And saudal-wood and bamboo-cane, 
For chairs aud tables bought; 



672 



SELECT AMERICAX POETRY. 



On all the mautel-pieccs, clocks 
Of thilce-gilt hionze must stauil, 

And screens of ebony and box 
Invite the straugev's hand. 

I want (who docs not wanfi) a wife, 

AfTectionate and fair, 
To solace all the woes of life, 

And all its joys to share; 
Of tempev sweet, of yielding will, 

Of firm, yet placid mind, 
With all my faults to love me still, 

With sentiment refined. 

And as Time's car incessant runs, 

And Fortiiuc fills my store, 
I want of daui:hters and of sons 

From eight to half a score. 
I want (alas ! can mortal dare 

Such bliss on earth to eraveS) 
That all the girls be chaste and fair — 

The boys all wise and brave. 

And when my bosom's darling sings, 

With melody divine, 
A pedal harp with many strings 

iVIust with her voice combine. 
A piano, exquisitely wrought. 

Must open stand, apart, 
That all my daughters may he tanght 

To « iu the stranger's heart. 

My wife and danghtcrs will desire 

Uefresh)nent from perfnmes. 
Cosmetics for the shin require, 

And artificial blooms. 
The civet fragrance shall dispense, 

And treasured sweets return; 
Cologne revive the fl.aggiug sense. 

And smoking amber burn. 

And when at night my weary head 

Begins to droop and dose, 
A chamber south, to hold my bed, 

For nature's soft repose; 
W'ith blankets, counterpanes, and sheet, 

Mattress, and sack of down. 
And comfortables for my feet. 

And pUlows for my crown. 

I want a warm and faithful friend. 

To cheer the adverse hour, 
Who ne'er to flatter will descend. 

Nor bend the knee to power; 
A friend to chide me when I'm wrong. 

My inmost soul to sec; 
And that my friendship prove as strong 

For him, as his for me. 

I want a kind and tender heart. 

For others' wants to feel; 
A soul secure from Fortune's dart. 

And bosom ariu'd with steel; 
To bear diviuc eliastisemeut's rod, 

A&t], mingling in my plan, 



Submission to the will of God, 
With charity to man. 

I want a keen, observing eye. 

An cver-listeuiug ear. 
The truth through all disguise to spy 

And wisdom's voice to hear; 
A tongue to speak at virtue's need. 

In Heaven's sublimest stiain; 
,\nd lips the cause of man to plead. 

And never plead in vain. 

I want uninterrupted health. 

Throughout my long career. 
And sticams of never-failing wealth, 

To scatter far and near — 
The destitute to clothe and feed. 

Free bounty to bestow, 
Supply the helpless orphan's need. 

And soothe the widow's wo. 

I want the genius to conceive. 

The talents to uufild, 
Designs, the vicious to retrieve, 

ThevirtU(ms to uphold; 
Inventive power, combining skUl, 

A persevering soul, 
Of human hearts to mould the will. 

And reach from pole to pole. 

I want the seals of power and place. 

The eusigns of command, 
Charged by the people's unbought graces 

To rule my native land ; 
Nor crown, nor scepter would I ask. 

But from my counti'y's will. 
By day, by night, to ply the task 

Her cup of bliss to fill. 

I want the voice of honest praise 

To follow me behind, 
.\nd to be thought, iu future days. 

The friend of hum.an kind; 
That after ages, as they rise, 

Exulting m.ay proclaim. 
In choral union to the skies. 

Their blessings on my name. 

These are the wants of mortal man; 

I cannot need them loug, 
For life itself is but a span. 

And earthly bliss a song. 
My last great want, absorbing all. 

Is, when beneath the sod. 
And summon d to my final call — 

The mercy of my God. 

A]id oh I while circles in my veins 

Of iile the purple strcani, 
.\nd yet a fragment small remains 

Of nature's transient dream. 
My soul, in humble hope nnscarcd, 

"Forget not thou to pray. 
That this thy want may be prepared 

To meet the Judgment-Day. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



6 



to 



■BLESSED AUK THEY THAT MOURN.' 

"\V. C. DKYANT. 

0, deem not tlicy ave blest alone 
Whose lives a' ])c;iceful tenor keep; 

The Piiwcv nlio liitios man, has showu 
A blessing' for the eyes that weep. 

The liiiht of smiles shall fill aciiin 
The~liils that oveiflow witli tears; 

And weary hours of wo ami pain 
Are promises of happier years. 

There is a day of snnny rest 

For every dark and troubled night; 

And grief may Ijide an CTcnin^ g;uest, 
Biit joy shall come with early light. 

And thou, who, o'er thy friend's low bier, 
Sheddest the hitter drops like rain, 

Hope that a brighter, happier sphere 
Will give him to thy arms again. 

Nor let the good man's trust depart, 
Though liie its eoramon gifts deny — 

Though with a pieri-edand bleeding heart. 
And spurned of men, he goes to die. 

For God hath marked each sorrowing day. 
And numbered every seeret tear, 

And heaven's long age of bli.i3 shall p.ay 
For all bis cliildreu suffer bore. 



THE DAY IS DONE. 

il. "W. LOSCFELLOW 

The day is done, iind the darkness 
Falls from the wings of Night, 

As a feather is wafted downward 
From an eagle in his flight. 

I see the lights of the village 

Gleam tlirongb tlie rainjmd the mist. 
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er mc. 

That my soul eanuot resist: 

A feeling of sadness and longing. 

That is not akin to pain, 
And resembles sorrow only 

As the mist resembles the rain. 

Come, lead to me some poem, 
Some simple and heart-felt lay. 

That shall soothe this restless feeling, 
And banish the thoughts of day. 

Not from the grand old mastei's. 
Not from the bards sublime. 

Whose diatant footsteps echo 
Through tlie corridors of Time. 

For, like strains of martial music, 
Their mighty thoughts suggest 

Life's endless toil and endeavor; 
And to-night 1 long for rest. 



Head from some humbler poet. 

Whose songs gushed from his heart, 

.\s show'rs from^the clouds of summer, 
Or tears from the eye- lids start; 

Who, through long days of labor. 

And nights devoid of ease, 
Still heard in his soul tlie uiusic 

Of wonderful melodies. 

Such songs have power to quiet 

The restless pulse of care. 
And come like the bcuediction 

That follows after prayer. 

Then read from the treasur'd volume 

The poem of thy choice. 
And lend to the rhyme of the poet 

The beauty of thy voice. 

Aud the night shall bcfiU'd with music, 
.\nd the "cares that infest the day 

Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
Aud as silcutly steal away. 



THE CHOICE. 



MKS. SrSANN.V ROWSON. 

An actress, authoress, and for twenty-five 
years a teacher. She wrote the noted 
novel, " Charlotte Tcmiilo." She died in 
Boston in 1K5. 

I ask no more than just to be 
From vice aud folly wholly free; 
To have a competent estate, 
Neither too small, nor yet too great; 
Something of rent and taxes clear, 
About five hundred pou\nIs a yo;ir. 
My house, though small, should be com- 
plete. 
Furnished, not elegant, but neat; 
One little room should sacred be 
To study, solitude, and me. 
The windows, jessamine should shade, 
Nor should a sound the cars invade, 
Except the warblings from the grove. 
Or plaintive innrm'rings from a dove. 
Here would 1 often pass the day, 
'J'urn o'er the page, or tune the lay, 
And court the aid and sacred fire 
(If the Pariia^siau tuucfnl choir. 
While calmly thus my time I'd spend. 
Grant me, ki)id Heaven, a faithful liii-ud 
In each emotion of my heart. 
Of grief or joy, to bear n part; 
Possess'd of learning, and good sense. 
Free from )iedantie insolence, 
ricas'd with retirement, let bim be. 
Yet cheerful 'midst society; 
Know how to tiiile with a grace. 
Yet grave in proper time and place. 

Let frugal plenty deck my board, 
So that its surjilus Biay adbrd 



674 



SELECT AMEIIICAN" POETRY. 



A f. distance to tlje nciglib'iing poor, 
And send them tbaukfiil from the door. 
A few associates I'd select, 
Worthy esteem aud high respect; 
And social mirth I would iuvite, 
Wilh sportive dance on tiptoe light; 
Nor should sweet music's voice he mute, 
The vocal strain, or plaintive lute; 
But all, and each, iu tnru agree, 
T'aflord life sweet variety; 
To keep serene the cheerful breast, 
And give to solitude a zest. 

And often he it our employ, 

Tor there is not a purer joy. 

To wipe the languid grief-swoln eye. 

To soothe the pensive mourner's sigh. 

To ealiu their fears, allay theii- grief. 

And give, if possible, relief. 

But if this fate, directing Heaven 
Thinks too indulgent to he given, 
Let health ai'd innocence be mine, 
Aud I v\ill i-crive not to repine; 
Will thankful take each blessing- lent, 
Bo humble, patient, and content. 



WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TKEE. 

GEORGE P. MORRI.S. 

Born at Philadelphi.a in 1801— Co-cdifor of 
the Home Jourual— "After I had sung the 
noble ballad of 'Woodman, Sp.aro that 
Iree,' at Boulogne," sa.vs Mr. Henry Rus- 
80. 1, the vocalist, "an old gentleman among 
the audience, who was greatly moved by 
the simple and touching beauty of the 
words, rose and said, ' I beg your pardon, 
Mr.RusscU, butwas the tree really spared?" 
_ It was,' said I. "I am very glad to hear 
It said he, as he took his seat amidst the 
unaniruoUH applause of the whole assem- 
bly. I never saw such excitement in a 
concert room." 

Woodman, spare that tree ! 

Touch not a single bough ! 
In youth it sheltered me, " 

And I'll protect it now. 
'T was my foi-efather's hand 

That placed it near his cot; 
There, woodmau. let it stand. 

Thy ax shall harm it not ! 

That old familiar tree, 

AVhose glory and renown 
Are spiead o'er land and sea. 

And wouldst thon hew it down"! 
Woodmau, forbear thy stroke! 

Cut not its earth-bound ties; 
O spare that aged oak. 

Now towering to the skies I 

Wheu but an idle hoy 

I sought its grateful shade ; 

111 all their gusliing joy 
Here too luy sisters play'd. 



My mother kiss'd me here; 

My father pressed my hand — 
Forgive this foolish tear. 

But let that old oak stand ! 

My heart-strings round thee cling 

Close as thy hark, old friend 1 
Here shall the wild-bird sing. 

And still thy branches bciid. 
Old tree! the storm still brave! 

And, woodman, leave the spot; 
While I've a hand to save. 

Thy ax shall harm it not ! 



THE SNOW-STORM. 

SEB.l SMITH. 

Born in Portland, Jlaine, in 1792— Author of 
the original Major Jack Downing Letters. 

The cold winds swept the mountain's height 
Aud pathless was the dreary wild. 

And 'mid the cheeidess hours of night 
A mother wandcr'd vath her child. 

As through the drifting snow she press'd, 
The babe was sleeping on her breast. 

And colder still the winds did blow, 
.\nd darker hours of mght came on. 

And deeper grew the drifting snow: 

Her limbs were chill'd, her strength -vas 
gone: 

"0 God !" she cried, iu accents wild, 
"If I must perish, save my child!" 

She stripp'd her mantle from her breast. 
And bared her bosom to the storm. 

And round the child she wrapp'd the vest 
And smiled to thiuk her babe was warm. 

With one cold kiss, one tear she shed, 
And sunk upon her snowy bed. 

At dawn a traveler passed by. 

And saw her 'ncath her snowy vail; 

The frost of death was iu her eye. 

Her cheek was cold, and hard, and pale; 

He moved the robe from off the child — 

The babe look'd up and sweetly smiled ! 



THE LIFE-VOYAGE— A Ballad. 



MRS. TRANCES S. OSGOOD. 

Born in Boston about the year ISli— Di'.d in 
lc;50. 



Once iu the olden time there dwelt 
Beside the sounding sea. 

A little maid — lier garb was coarse. 
Her spirit pure and free. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



(i75 



Her parents were an liunible twain. 

And poor as poor could be; 
Yet gaj'ly sang tlic guileless child, 

Beside the sounding sea. 

The hnt was bare, and scant the fare 

And hard her little bed; 
But she was rich ! — a sin!;le gem 

Its beauty round her shed. 

She walk'd in li:.;ht ! — 'twas all her weallh- 
That pearl, whose lustrous glow 

Made her white forehead dazzling fair, 
And pure as sunlit snow. 

Her parents died ! With teal's she ciied, 

" God will my father he!" 
Then launch'J alone her shallop light, 

And bravely put to sea. 

The sail she set was virgin-white. 

As inmost lily leaf, 
And angels whisper'd her from Heaven, 

To loose it or to reef. 

And ever on the dancing prow- 
One glorious brilliant burn'd, 

By whose clear lay she read her way, 
And every danger learu'd: 

For she had huug her treasure there. 
Her Uc.aven-illuniined pearl ! 

And so she stcer'd hrr lonely hark, 
That fair and guileless girl 1 

The wind was fresh, the sails were free. 
High dasli'd the diamond spray. 

And merrilv leapin;; o'er the sea, 
The light ^ki^r left the bay ! 

But soon false, evil spirits came. 
And strove with costly lure, 

To biibe her maiden heart to shame. 
And win her jewel pure. 

They swarm'd around the fragile boat, 
They brought her diamonds rare. 

To glisten ou her graceful throat. 
And bind her flowing hair ! 

They brought her gold from .\fric-land, 
And from the sea-king's throne 

They pilfer'd gems, to grace her hand 
And clasp her virgin zone. 

But still she shook the silken curl 
Back from her beaming eyes. 

And cried — ' I bear my spotless pearl 
Home, home to yonder skies I 

"Now, shame ye not, your ocean gems 

And eastern gold to showS 
Behold ! how mine outburns them all I 

God's smile is in its gl'j\v 1" 

Fair blows the wind, the sail swells fiee, 
High shoots the diamond spray. 

And merrily o'er the nHirnmring sea 
The light boat leaps away I 
43 



They swarm'd around the fragile bark. 
They strove with costlier lure 

To biibe her nniiden heart to shame. 
And win her jewel pure. 

" We bring thee rank — we briua; thee pow'r; 

We bring thee pleasures free — 
No empress, in her silk-hung boucr, 

May queen her realm like thee I 

"Now yield us up the one white pearl ! 

'Tis but a star, whose ray 
Will fail thee, rash, devoted girl. 

When tempests cloud thy way." 

But still she smiled a loftier smile. 

And raised her frank, bright eyes. 
And cried — " I bear my vestal star 

Home, home to yonder skies I" 

The wind is fresh — the sail swells free — 
nigh shoots the diamond spray 1 

And merrily o'er the moaning sea 
The light boat leaps away ! 

Suddenly, stillness broods around, 

A stillness as of death. 
Above, below — no motion, sound. 

Hardly a struggling breath 1 

Then wild and fierce the tempest came, 
'I'hc dark wind-demons clash'd 

Their weapons swift — the air was flame I 
The w.aves in madness dash'd I 

They swarm'd around the tossing boat — 

"Wilt yield thy jewel nov;? 
Loolc ! look ! ali-eady drenched in spray. 

It trembles at the prow. 

" Be ours the gem 1 and safely launch 'd 

Upon a summer's sea. 
Where never cloud may frown in heaven. 

Thy pinnace light shall be !" 

But still she smiled a fearless smile, 
And raised her trusting eyes. 

And cried — " I bear my talisman 
Home, home to yonder skies 1" 

And safe through all that bliuding storm 

The true bark floated on, 
And soft its pearl-illumined prow 

Through all the tumult shone I 

An angel, guided through the clouds 

By that most precious light. 
J'lew down the fairy helm to take. 

To steer the boat aright. 

Then died the storm upon the seal 
High dash'd the diamond spray, 

And merrily leaping light and free, 
The shallop sail'd aw,ay. 

And meekly, when at eve her barli 

Its destined port had found. 
She moor'd it by the inellow ?paik 

Her jewel shed around 1 



676 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



Wouldst liiiow the Bame the maiden wore •. 

'Twas Innocence — like thine ! 
Wouldst know the pcail she nobly bore's 

'T was Truth — a gem divine ! 

Thou hast thejewel— keep it bright, 

Uudiuim'd by mortal tear, 
And bathe each stain upon its light 

With Grief's repentant tear! 

Still shrink from falsehood's fairest guise, 

By flattery unbeguiled ! 
Still let thy heart speak from thine eyes. 

My pure and simple child ! 



OX THE DEATH OF JOSEPH ROD- 
MAN DRAKE. 

FITZ-GREENE HALLEOK. 

The sood die first, [dust, 

And they whose hearts are dry as summer 
Burn to the socket . — Wm lswirrlJt . 

Green be the turf above thee, 
Erieiid of my better days ! 

None knew thee but to love thee, 
None named thee but to praise. 

Teal's fell when thou wert dying, 
From eyes unused to weep, 

And long where thou art lying. 
Will tears tlie cold turf steep, 

Wlen hearts, whose truth was proven. 
Like thine, are laid in earth. 

There should a wreath be woven. 
To tell the world their worth. 

And I, who woke each morrow 
To clasp tliy band in mine. 

Who sliared tliy joy and fiojrow. 
Whose weal and wo were thine; 

It should be mine to braid it 

Around thy faded brow. 
But I 've in vaiii essayed it. 

And feel I cannot now. 

While memory bids me weep thee. 
Nor thoughts nor words are free, 

The grief is fixed too deeply 
That mourns a man like thee. 



OLD SONGS. 

WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. 

Bom in Olisoo.N. Y..in 1810— Died in 1B41. 

Give me (he song."! I loved to hear. 
In sweet and sunny days of yore; 

Which crme in gushes to my car 

From lips that breathe them now no more; 



From lips, alas ! on which the worm. 
In coiled and dusty silence lies. 

Where many a loved, lamented Ibrm 
Is hid from Son'ow's filling eyes ! 

Yes ! when those unforgotten lays 

Come trembling with a .'.pirit- voice, 
I mind me of those early days, 

When to I'cspire was to rejoice; 
When glad^ome flowers and IVuitage shoup 

Where'er my willing footsteps fell; 
When Hope's bright realm \vas all mine own, 

And Fancy whispered, "All is well." 

Give me old songs ! They stir my heart 

As with some glorious trumpet-tone: 
Beyond the reach of modern art. 

They rule its thrilling cords alone, 
Till, on the wings of thought I fly 

Back to that boundary of bliss, 
Which once benc.ith my childhood's sky 

Embraced a scene of loveliness I 

Thus, when the portals of mine ear 

Those loug-rcuiembered lays receive. 
They seem like guests, w hose voices cheer 

My breast, and bid it not to grieve: 
They ring in cadences of love. 

They tell of dreams now vanished all; 
Dreams, that descended from above — 

Visions, 't is laptnre to recall ! 

Give me old songs ! I know not why. 

But every tone they breathe to me 
Is fraught with pleasures pure and high. 

With honest love or honest glee: 
They move me, when by chance T hear, 

They rouse each slumbeiing pulse anew; 
Till every scene to memory dear 

Is pictured brightly to my view 

I do not ask those sickly lays 

O'er which afFected maidens bend; 
Which scented I'ops are bound to praise. 

To which dull crowds tljcir homage lend 
Give me some simple Scottish song. 

Or lays from Eiin's distant isle; 
Lays that to love and truth belong. 

And cause the saddest lip to smile I 



A MARRIAGE SONG. 



JAMES W. WARD. 

Born in Scwark. N". .T., in 1819 — Educated 
in Boston — liesidcnt of Cincinnati, 0, 



Little Dora was sweet, little Doi'n was pure. 
And never a heart, than hers, was truer: 
There was of guile not a trace about her. 
And the thoughts within, and the life with- 
out her. 
Were bright and beautiful day by day. 
Thinking only such things as a maiden may. 



SELKCT AMERICAN POETEY. 



677 



liiUle Pom, wlio vend her Bible nislitly. 
With 11 living liiith. not iJly or lii;htly, 
iloiidint;, one niiiht. its sacred prtgcs, 
She found, ,is over its words she pored. 
This thoui;ht. from one of the Hebrew Sfiges — 
She slept on his bosom, and eat at his board. 

"Now what, my dear mother," at length she 

said. 
Smoothing the curls ou her raven head — 
"Wliat nie:iiieth the tcitS I have tried invaiu 
To make tlie sense of the fable ])lain." 
l.ady Klcanur took her daughter's hand. 
And said in accents kind and bhmd — 
"When a maiden, my Doia. by love invited. 
Her heart to her lover lias firmly plighted. 
It meaucth tliat she will sometimes be. 
15y the sanction of law, and her heart's ac- 
cord. 
His trustful wife; and it follows, t'riat she 
Mustsleepoa his bosom, and catat hisboar<l." 

Little Dora dreamed, little Dora mused. 
But her dreams were vague and her thoughts 

confused; 
She felt it must he as her mother had sjiid, 
.\nd there came a sweet vision into her head; 
.■\nd she said to herself as in silence she gazed 
On the starry lights, that cloudless blazed 
In the midnight sky — If Carlos, I think. 
Should again, with mc, watch the young moon 

sink 
Behind yon hill, and should speak again 
Those words, still deep in my memory stored, 
My heart would be stiong, and I'd promise 

him then. 
To sleep on his bosom, and cat at his board. 

-Vnd ("arlos came, when the moon again 
With beauty filled the shadowy glen; 
And the maiden stood by bis side, and beard 
Those words, once more, that her heart had 

stirred; 
And her soul's response her lips obeyed, 
Aud the two were one, as they homewaid 

strayed. 
Came the witnesses then, and they made their 

vow 
To tlic man of God, with fond accord; 
And he called them man and wife; and now 
She sleeps ou his bosom, and cats at his hoard. 



THE YANKEE'S RETURN FROM CAM? 

Tunc — YANKEE DOODLE. 

These arc the most familiar verses to the 
above tunc. Yankee Doodle first appeared 
ill Encland in the time of Charles It, as is 
ubown by a verse cf that period: 

Yankee Doodle came to town, 

Upon a Kentish pony; 
He stuck a feather in his liat. 

Aud called him Macaroni. 



A song i-? in use among the laborers in Hol- 
land, in harvest-time, which thus runs: 

Y'anker didd, doodel down, 

Didel, dudel lanter, 
Yanke viver, voover vown, 

Botermilk aud Tanther. 

From this it would seem that, perhaps. 
Yankee iJnodlc was by birth a Dutchman 1 
He this as it nny, he is now so fairly " natu- 
ralized," that no " American " will dispute 
lii.s " papers." 



Father and I went down to camp. 
Along with Captain Gooding, 

And thei'e we see the men and boys, 
As thick as hasty pudding. 

CItorus — Y'ankee Doodle, keep it up, 
Yankee Doodle, dandy. 
Mind the music and the step, 
.\ud with the girls be handy. 

And theic we see a thousand men, 

.\s rich as 'Squire David; 
.\nd what they wasted every day, 

I wish it could be saved. 

The 'lasses they eat cveiy day. 
Would keep an house a winter; 

They have so much that, I'll be bound, 
They eat It when they're a mind to. 

.■\nd there we see a swamping gun, 

Large as a log of maple. 
Upon a denced little cart, 

A load for father's cattle. 

And every time they shoot it off, 

It takes a horn of powder, 
And makes a noise like father's gnn, 

Only a nation louder. 

1 went as nigh to one myself. 

As Siah's underpinning, 
And father went as nigh again, 

I thought the deuce was in him. 

Cousin Simon grew so bold, 

I thought he would have coek'J itj 

It scar'd me so, I shriuk'd itoff, 
And hnng by father's pocket. 

And Ca|)lain Davis had a gun. 
He kind of elapt his hand on't, 

And stuck a crooked stabbing iron 
Upon the little end on't. 

And there I see a pumpkin shell 

As big as mother's bason; 
And every tirnc they touch'd it off, 

They seamper'd like the nation. 

I see a little barrel too, 

The heads were made of leather. 
They knock'd upon't with little eluba, 

Aud eall'd the folks together. 



678 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



There was Captain Washiiiston, 

Upon a slapping stallion, 
A giving orders to his men — 

I guess there was a million. 

And then the feathers on his hat, 
They look'd so tarnal fiua, 

T wanted poekily to get 
To give to my Jemima. 

And there tliey'd fife away like fun, 
And play on cornstalk fiddles. 

And some bad ribbons red as blond. 
All wound about their middles. 

The troopers, too, would gallop up, 
And fire right in our faec8; 

It sear'd me almost half to death. 
To see them run such races. 

Old Uncle Sam come there to change 
Some pancakes and some onions, 

For 'lasses-cakcs, to carry home 
To give his wife and young ones 

But I can't tell you half I see, 
They kept up such a smother; 

So I took my hat off, made a bow. 
And scauiper'd home to mother. 



LITTLE MARY'S GOOD-MORNING. 

These verses, it is said, were written by a 
lady of Northern Ohio. The tourbing 
beauty of sentiment, so full of the cheer- 
fulness, contidin^ atfection, innocence and 
aimplicity of childhood, commends them 
to the heart of every parent. 

"O I I am BO happy!" the little girl said. 
And she sprang like alark from the low trun- 
dle bed; 
" Tis morulug, bright morning! Good-morn- 

iug, papa ! 
0! givcmeonekiss forgood-moniing, mama! 
Only just look at my pretty canary. 
Chirping his sweet 'Good-morning to Mary.' 
The sunshine is peeping straight into my eyes! 
fiood-morniiig to you, Mr. Sun — for you rise 
Early, to wake up my birdie and me, 
And make us as happy, as happy can be." 

"Happy you may be, my dear little girl," 
And the mother stroked softly a clustering 

curl ; 
"Happy as can be — but think of the One 
Who wakened this morning, both you and 

the sun." 
The little one turned her bright eyes with a 

nod; 
"Mama, may I say. Good-morning to God?" 
'•Yes," little darling one, "surely you may; 
Kjieel, as you kneel every morning to pray!" 

Mary knelt solemnly down — \< ith her eyes 
Looking up earnestly into the skies. 



And two little hands that were folded to- 
gether. 
Softly she laid on the lap of her mother — 
•Good morniug, dear Father in Heaven," she 

said; 
"I thank thee for watching my snug little bed; 
For taki)ig good care of me all the dark night. 
And waking me up with the beautiful light. 
O! keep me from uaugbtiHessall the long day. 
Blest Jesus, who taught little children to 
pray." 

An angel looked down in the sunshine, and 

smiled ; 
But she saw not the angel — that beautiful 

child. 



HAIL, COLUMBLi. 

FRANCIS HOPKINSOK. 

Born at Philadelphia in 1770 — Judge of Dis- 
trict Court of the U. S.— Died in 1842— 
*' Hail, Columbia " was written in 1798, to 
arouse a national feeling in view of an ex- 
pected war with France. 

Hail, Columbia ! happy land ! 
Hail, ye heroes, heaven-born band ! 

Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, 
Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, 
And when the storm of war was gone, 
Enjoy'd the peace your valor won 1 
Let independence be our boast. 
Ever mindful what it cost; 
Ever grateful for the prize. 
Let its altar reach the skies. 
Firm — united — let us be. 
Rallying round our liberty: 
As a band of brothers join'd, 
Peace and safety we shall find. 

Immortal patriots ! rise once more; 

Defend your rights, defend your shore; 
Let no rude foe, with impious hand. 
Let no rude foe, with impious hand. 

Invade the shrine where sacred lies 

Of toil and blood the well-earned prize. 
While offering peace sincere and just. 
In heaven we place a manly trust. 
That truth and justice will prevaU, 
And every scheme of bondage fail. 
Firm — uuited, etc. 

Sound, sound the trnmp of Fame 1 

Let Washington's great name 

Ring through the world with loud applause, 
Ring through the w orld « ith loud applause; 

Let every clime to Freedom dear 

Listen with a joyful car. 

With equal skill and godlike power. 
He governs in the I'eaifnl hour 
Of horrid war; or guides with case 
The happier times of honest peace. 
Firm — uuited, etc. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



(;79 



Behold the chief who now ci>miiiaiiJs, 
Onco uiore to serve liis eouiitiy stands — 
The lOL-lc on which tlie storm will lic;it, 
'I'hc lock on which the storm will hent; 
Unt, armed in virtne. firm and true, 
His liu[)cs arc fixed on Heaven and you. 
When Hope was sinking in dismay, 
And glooms oljseured Columhia's day, 
His steady mind, from changes free, 
Resolved on death or liberty. 
Firm — united, etc. 



THE BATTLE-FIELD. 

W. C. BRYANT. 

Once this turf, this rivulet's sands. 
Were trampled by a hurrying crowd. 

And fiery hearts and armed hands 
Encountered in tlie battle-cloud. 

Ah! never shall tbe land forget 

How gushed the life-blood of her brave- 
Gushed, warm witli hope and courage yet, 

Upon the soil they fought to save. 

Now, all is calm, and fresh and still. 

Alone the chirp of flitting bird. 
And talk of children on the hill, 
. And bell of wandering kine are heard. 

No solemn host goes trailing by 

The black -mouthed gun and staggering 
wain; 
Men start not at the battle-ery, 

O, be it never heard again. 

Soon rested those who fought; but thou 

Who minglcst in the harder strife 
For truths wliich men receive not now, 
. Thy warfare only ends with life. 

X friendless warfare I lingering long 
Through weary day and weary year. 

A wild and many-wcaponed throng 
Hang on thy front, and flank, and rear. 

Yet nerve thy spirit to tlie proof, 
And blanch not ,at the dioseu lot; 

'I'bc timid good may stand aloof. 

The sage may frown — yet faint thou not. 

Nor heed the shaft too surely east. 
The fonl and hissing bolt of seorn; 

I'or with thy side sliall dwell at last. 
The victory of endurance born. 

Truth, crushed to the earth, shall rise again; 

T'he eternal yeiirs of God are hers; 
I3nt Error, wounded, writhes in paiu, 

.\nd dies among his worshipers. 

Yea. though thou lie npou the dust. 

When tliey wlio helped thee flee in fear; 

I lie full of hope and manly trust. 
l,ike those who fell in battle here. 



Another hand thy sword shall wield, 
.Vuotlier hand tlie standard w ave. 

Till fiom the trumpet's mouth is pealed 
The blast of triumph o'er thy grave. 



RESIGNATION. 

n. W. LONGFELLOW 

There is uo flock, however watehed ami 
tended. 

But one dead Iamb is there ! 
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended. 

But has one vacant chair ! 

The air is full of farewells to the dying, 

And mournings for the dead; 
The heart of Rachel for her children crying 

Will not be comforted ! 

Let us he patient ! these severe afflictions 

Not fiom the ground arise. 
But oftentimes celestial benedictions 

Assume this dark •disguise. 

We see but dimly thru' the mist and vapore; 

Amid these earthly damps 
What seem to us but dim funereal tapere 

May be Heaven's distant lamps. 

There is no Death ! what seems so is trausi. 
tion ; 

This life of Mortal breath 
Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 

Whose pmtal we call Death. 

She is not dead — the child of our afTectiou — 

But gone unto that school 
Where she no louger needs our poor protec- 
tion, 

.\nd Christ himself doth rule. 

Ill that great cloister's stillness and seclu- 
sion 
By guardian angels led. 
Safe from temptation, safe frop sin's pollu- 
tion. 
She lives, whom we call dead. 

Day after day we think what she is doing. 
In those bright realms of air; 

Year alter year, ber tender stc[is pursuing. 
Behold her growu more fair. 

Tlius do wc walk with her, and keep uo- 
broken 
The bond which nature gives. 
Thinking that our remembrance, though un- 
spoken, 
May reach her where she lives. 

Not as a child shall wc again behold lier; 

For when ivitb raptures wild 
In our cmlHai-cs we again eufold her, 

She will not be a child; 



680 



SELECT AMERICAN POP^TRT. 



Bat a fail' maiden, in her rathcr's mansion, 

ClotheJ with celestial graee; 
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion 

Shall we behold her face. 

And though at times, impetuous with emo- 
tion 
And anguish long suppressed, 
The swelling hcait heaves moaning like the 
ocean 
That cannot he at rest; 

Wc will be patient ! and assuage the feeling 

We cannot wliollv stay; 
By silence sanctifying, not concealing. 

The giicl that must have way. 



THE LAST LEAl''. 

O. TV. HOLMES. 

Born at Cambridge, Massachusetts, in ISO? — 
I'rofe.ssor in the Medical Department of 
Harvard University. 

I saw him ouct? before. 
As he passed by the door, 

Aud again 
The pavement stones resound 
As he totters o'er the ground 

With his cane. 

They say that in his prime. 
Ere the pruuing-kcife of Time 

Cut him down. 
Not a better man was found 
By the Crier on his round 

Through the town. 

But now he walks the streets, 
And he looks at all he meets, 

Sad aud wan, 
And he shakes his feeble head. 
That it seems as if he said, 

"They are gone." 

The mossy marbles rest 
On the lips that he has prcst 

In their bloom, 
And the names he loved to hear 
Have been carved for many a year 

Ou the tomb. 

My grandmamma has said — 
Poor old lady, she is dead 

Long ago — 
That he had a Roman nose. 
And his check was like a rose 

In the snow. 

But now his nose is thin, 
And it rests upon his chin 

Like a staff. 
And a crook is iu his back, 
Aud a melancholy crack 

Iu his laugh. 



I kuow it is a sin 
For me to sit and grin 

At him here; 
Hut the old three-cornered hat. 
And the breeches, aud all that. 

Are so queer! 

And if I should live to be 
The last leaf upon the tree 

In the spiing — 
Let them smile, as I do now. 
At the old forsaken bough 

Where I cling. 



OLD GRIMES. 



ALEEKT G. GIIEENE. 

Born in Providence, R. I., in 1802 — Educated 
for the Bar. " Oid Grimes " was written 
iu about bis sixteenth year. 

Old Grimes is dead; that good old man 
We ne'er shall see hiui more: 

He used to wear a long black coat 
All buttoned down before. 

His heart was open as the day, 
His feelings all were true; 

His hair was some inclined to gray. 
He wore it iu u queue. 

Whene'r he heard the voice of pain. 
His breast with pity burned; 

The large round head upon his eaue 
From ivory was turned. 

Kind words he ever had for all; 

He knew no base design; 
His eyes were dark aud rather small. 

His nose was aquiline. 

He lived at peace with all mankind. 
In friendship he was true; 

His coat had pocket-holes behind. 
His pantaloons were blue. 

Unharmed, the sin which earth pollutoa 

He passed securely o'er. 
And never wore a pair of boots 

For thirty years or more. 

But good old Grimes is now at rest. 
Nor fears misfortune's frown; 

He wore a double-breasted vest; 
The stripes ran up aud down. 

He modest merit sought to find. 

And pay it its desert: 
He had no malice in his mind, 

No nrfflcs on his shirt. 

•His neighbors he did not abuse — 

Was sociable and gay; 
He wore large buckles on his shoes, 
And changed them every day. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



681 



His knowledge liiJ from public s;;ize, 

He (lid not Ill-ill;^ to view. 
Nor make a noise, towu-mccUug Jays, 

As many people do. 

Hia worldly poods lie never threw 
In trubt to fortune's chances. 

But lived (as all his brothers do) 
In easy circumstances. 

Thus uudisluib'd by anxious cares, 
His peaceful niomcuts ran; 

And everybody said be was 
A fine old geutlcmau. 



PICTURES OF MEMORY. 

MISS .ILICE CAliET 

Born, in 1822, at Mt. Pleasant, near Cincin- 
nati. 0. 

Among the beautiful pictures 

That liaii^' on Memory'.^ wall. 
Is one of a dim old forest, 

That scemcth best of all; 
Not for its gnarled oaks olden. 

Dark with the mistletoe; 
Not for the violets goldeu 

That sprinkle the vale below; 
Not for the milk-white lilies 

Tiuvt lean from the flagrant hedge, 
Coquetting ail day with the sunbeams, 

And stealing their golden edge; 
Not for the viiie^ on the upland 

Where the l)riglit red-berries rest, 
Nor the pinks, nor the pale, sweet cowslip, 

It scemcth to me the best. 

I once had a little brother. 

With eyes tliat were dark and deep — 
In the lap of that old dim forest 

He lieth in peace asleep: 
Liglit ns the down of the thistle, 

Free as the winds that blow. 
We roved there the bi^autiful summere, 

The summers of long .ago; 
But his feet on tlic hills grew weary, 

.\nd, one of the autumn eves, 
I made for my little brother 

A bed of tlie yellow leaves. 

Sweetly his pale arms folded 

My neck in a meek embrace. 
As the light of immortal beauty 

Silently covered his face: 
And when the arrows of sunset 

Lodged in the tree-tops bright. 
He fell, in bis saint-like beauty. 

Asleep by the pates of light. 
Therefore, of all the pictures 

That hang on Memory's wall, 
The one of the dim old forest 

Scemcth the best of all. 



WHEN OTHER FRIENDS ARE ROUND 
THKE. 

G. P. MOKHIS. 

When other friends are round thee. 

And other hearts aic thine. 
When other bays have crowu'd thee. 

More fresh and green than niiue. 
Then tliink how sad and lonely 

This doatiiig heart will be. 
Which, while 'it throbs, throbs only 

Beloved one, for thee 1 

Yet do not think I doubt thee, 

I know thy truth remaius; 
I would not live without thee, 

For all the world contains. 
Thou art the star that guides me 

Along life's changing sea; 
And whatc'er fate betides me. 

This heart still turns to thee. 



THE LAPSE OF TIME. 

W. C. BRV,\NT. 

Lament who will, in fruitless tears, 

The speed w ith whicli our moments fly; 

I sigh not over vanished years, 

But watch the years tliat hasten by. 

I;Ook. how they come — a mingled crowd 
Of bright ami dark, but rapid days; 

Beneath them, like a summer cloud, 
The wide world changes as I gaze. 

What ! grieve that time has brought so soou 
The sober age of manhood on ! 

As idly might I weep, at noon, 
To see the blush of morning gone. 

Could I give up the hopes that glow 

In prospect like Elysiau isles; 
And let the cheerful future go. 

With all her promises and smiles 

The future ! — cruel were the power 

Whose doom would tear thcc from ray 
heart. 

Thou sweetener of the present hour ! 
We cauuot — no — we will not part. 

0, leave mc still the rapid ilight 

That makes the changing seasons gay. 

The grateful speed that brings the night, 
The swift and glad return of day; 

The months that touch with added grace. 
This little prattler at my knee. 

In whose arch eye and speaking face 
New meaning every hour I see; 

The years, that o'er each sister land 
Sliall lift the country of my birth. 

And nurse her strength, till she shall stand 
The pride and pattern of the earth; 



682 



SELECT AMERICAN' POETEY. 



Till yoiinf;er commoinvraltlis, for ni,l, 
Shiil! cliii!; about lior iimplc roljii, 

And IVom her frown sh.-ill shrink (vlriiiil 
'J'hc uronucd oI)l)l■cs^ors of tlic globe. 

Tme— time will scnni niul blanch mv blow 
Weil— I slmll sit with n^cd men, " 

And m.y good gl.i^s will tell me how 
A grizzly beard becomes mc then. 

And then, should no disliouor lie 
Upon my lic;id. when I am gray, 

I/ove yet shall watch my fading eye, 
And smooth the jjath of my~ decay. 

Then haste thoe, Time— 'tis kindness all 
liiat speeds thy winged feet so fast- 

ihy pleasures stay not till they pall. 
And all tliy pains are cjuickly past. 

Thou iliest and bear'st awav our woes 
And as thy shadowy train's depart, 

i he memory of sonow groivs 
A lighter bnrden on tiie heart. 



THE CORAL GROVE. 

JAMES RATKS rKltCIVAI,. 

^y"J" u'-'H"- ';"?'•'•• "' l""5-«ra(luato „f 
i a c-l)ic;l in Kiii. at whicli time h<' was 
fhe ';?;" " W.semisin. , He was one f 
the most Icanic.l men „r America. His 
temperament was morliidly sensitiyo, with 

BO much ol a recluse was ho as not to pos- 
Bcss a. single closely intimate friend. 

IJeep in the wave is a coral grove, 
Where til,' purple iinillct and iiold-fish rove- 
Wlicrc the sea-flower spreads its leaves of 

blue, 
That never are wet with falling dew, 
lint in bright and ehangelul beauty shine 
l-ar down lu the irccn and s,'lassv brine 
The floor is ol sand, like the mountain drift- 
And the pcai-l -shells spangle the flinty snow 
I'lom coral rocks the sea-plants lift 
'J'heir bonghs, where the tides and billows 

flow; 

The water is calm and still below, 

For the winds and waves are absent there, 

And the sanu« are bright as the stars that 

glow 
In the motionless fields of upper air- 
'I'herc. with its waving blade of green 
Tlu- Bca-flag streams throngl, the silent' water, 
And the crim?on leaf of the dulse is seen 
1 blush, like a banner bathed in slaughter: 
1 here, with a light and easy motion, 
The fan-coral sweeps through the clear dc",) 

sea ; ' 

And tlie yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean 
Are bending like corn on the upland lea: 



And life, ill rare and beautiful forms, 
Is sporting amid those bowers of stoue, 
And is safe, when the wrathful spirit o. 

storms 
Has made the top of the w-aye his own: 
Am! wlieu the ship from his fury flies, " 
Where the myriad voices of ocean roar, 
When the wind-god frowns iu the imu-ky 

skies. 
And deinous arc waiting tlie wreck on shore- 
Then, far below, in the peaceful sea, ' 
The purple mullet and gold-fish rove. 
Where the waters mnrmur traminilly,' 
Through the bending twigs of the coral grove. 



A PSALM OF LU'E. 

WHAT TIIE HEART OF TIIE VOUNG MAN 
SAID TO THE I'SAI.MIST. 

n. W. LONGFELLOW. 

Tell mc not, in mournful nnmbei-a. 
Life is but an empty dream ! 

For the soul is dead that slnmbei-s, 
And things are not what they seem. 

Life is real I Life is earnest I 
And the grave is not its goal; 

Dust thou art, to dust retnrnest' 
Was not spoken of the soul. 

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow. 
Is our destined end or way; 

iliitto act, that each to-morrow 
Find us father than to-duy. 

Art is long, and Time is fleeting 
And our hearts, though stoutand brave. 

Still, like muflled drums, are beating 
I'uneral maiehrs to the grave. 

In the world's broad field of battle, 

Jn the bivoiwc of Life, 
lie not like dumb, driven cattle! 

Be a hero in the strife! 

Trust no Future, howe'cr pleasant 1 
Let the dead Past bury its dead ! 

Act — act ill the living Present! 
Heart witliin, and God o'crhcad 1 

Lives of great men all remind ns 
We can make our hearts sublime. 

And, departing, leave behind us 
Footpriuts on the sands of time; 

Footprints, that perhaiis another. 
Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 

A forlorn nud ship-wrci-k'd brother 
Seeing, shall take heart again. 

Let ns, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate; 
Still achieving, still pursuing, 

Lcaru to labor and to wait. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETKY. 



683 



THE LITTLE ORATOR. 

IlEV. TIIADDEUS IIAKIUS. 

Graduated at Ilurvanl ; fur a lime a teacher, 
and in ntO was settled over the churcli in 
JJorciieater, Masjjachusell.s. These verges 
were written i'nr and recited by Hon, Kd- 
nard Kverett, then a boy four years old. 
Tlio " little roan " refers to the color of the 
" little orator's " liair. 

Pray, how thoulJ I, a little lad, 
In Epcaking, make a figure S 

You're only jokiup, I'm afraid — 
Do wait till I am bigger. 

But since yon wish to hear my part. 

And urge me to begin it, 
I'll Btrive for praise, with all my heart. 

Though Email the hope to win it. 

I'll tell yo\i a tale how farmer John 
A little roan eolt bred, sir. 

.And every uigbt and every morn 
He watcr'd and he fed, sir. 

Said neighbor Joe to fanner John, 
"Arn't you a silly dolt, sir. 

To spend such time and care upon 
A little useless colt, sir ? 

Said fanner John to neighbor Joe, 
" I'll bring my little roan up. 

Not for the good he now can do. 
But will do, when he's grown up." 

The moral yon can well espy. 
To keep the tale from spoiling; 

The little eolt. you think, is I — 
I know it by your smiling. 

And now, my friends, please to excuse 
My lisping and my stammcis; 

I, for this once, have done my be^t. 
And so — I'll make my manners. 



LINES 

erOKEN AT A ECHOOI. EXHIBITION BV A 
UTTLE BOY SEVE.N YEAItS OLD. 

BY DAVID EVERETT. 

Ilorn at Princeton. N. Jcr.'ey — Teacher — 
Graduate of Dartmi'iith — then editor, and 
died at Marietta, Ohio, in 18)3. These 
verses were written for one of his pupils at 
New Ipswich, Mass. 

You'd scarce cipeet one of my age 

To speak in public on the stage; 

-And if I chance to fall below 

Demosthenes or Cicero, 

iJon't view me with a critic's eye. 

Hut pass my iinpcifertions by. 

Ijirgc ftrcams from little fountains flow; 

Tall oaks fiom little acorns grow; 

.\nd though I now am small and yonng, 

Of judgment weak and feeble tongue. 



Yet all great learned men, like me. 

Once learned to read tlicir A, li. C. 

But why may not Columbia's soil 

Bear men as great as liritaiii's itle'i — 

Exceed » hat Oiccee and liome have doue^- 

Or any land beneath the suu'i 

Mayn't Matstiehusctts boast as great 

Ao any other sister State "i 

Or Where's the town, go far and near. 

That does not find a rival here S 

Or Where's the boy hut three feet high 

Who's made improvenicnt more tliau I ? 

These thoughts inspire my youtliful mind 

To be the greatest of mankind: 

Great, not like C;ctar, stained with blood, 

But only great as 1 am good. 



A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE. 

KPES SAIIGEANT. 

Born in 1S)0 in Oloneestcr, >Ia,«8. 

A life on the ocean wave, 

A home on the rolling deep; 
'Where the scattered waters rave. 

And the winds their revels keep ! 
Like an eagle caged, 1 pine 

On this dull, unchanging shore: 
! Give ine the flashing brine. 

The spray and the tempest's roar 1 

Once more on the deck I stand, 

Of my own swift-gliding croft; 
Set sail i farewell to the land I 

The gale follows fair ahalt. 
We slioot through the tpaikling form 

Like an ocean-bird set free; — 
Like the occan-biid, our home 

We'll find far out on the sea. 

The land is no longer in view. 

The clouds have begun to frown; 
But with a stout vessel and crew. 

We'll say. Let the storm come down 
And the song of our hearts shall be. 

While the winds and the w.aters rave, 
A home on the rolling sea ! 

A life on the ocean wave ! 



THE SETTLER. 

AI.IKEI) 11. .STKEET. 

Bom at Poukccp'ie, .\. Y., in 1811— Bred tc 
the l.'iw. 

His echoing ai the settler swung 

Amid the sea-like solitude, 
And rushing, tlmiidering, down were flnug 

The Titans of the v.eo:l; 



es-i 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



IjoiuI sliriekcJ the eagle as lie diisliej 
I'rom out hU niotsy iicst. which crashed 

M'iLh its supporting; bough, 
Aud tbc first suulit;ht, Icapiug, flashed 

Oa the wolf's haunt below. 

Rude was the garb, and stroug the frame 

Of him who plifd his ceaseless toil: 
To I'onn that parb. the wild-wood game 

Coutributed their spoil; 
The soul that v armed that frame, disdained 
The tinsel, gaud, aud glare, that reigued 

Where men their crowds collect; 
The simple fur, uutrimmed, unstained. 

This lorest t,amer decked. 

The paths which wound 'mid gorgeous trees. 

The streams whose bright lips kissed their 
flowers, 
The winds that swelled their harmonies 

Through those suu-hiding bowers. 
The temple vast — the greeu arcade, 
The nestling vale, the grassy glade. 

Dark cave and swampy lair; 
These scenes and sounds majestic, made 

His world, his pleasures, there. 

His roof adorned, a pleasant spot, 

'Mid the black logs greeu glowed the 
grain. 
And herbs and plants the woods knew not. 

Throve in the sun and rain. 
The smoke-wreath curling o'er the dell. 
The low — the bleat — the tinkling bell. 

All made a landscape strange, 
Which was the living chronicle 

Of deeds that wrought the change. 

The violet sprung at Spring's first tinge. 

The rose of Summer spread its glow. 
The maize hung on its Autumn fringe. 

Rude Winter brought his snow: 
And still the settler labored there. 
His shout and whistle woke the air 

As cheerily he plied 
His garden spade, or drove his share 

Along the hillock's side. 

He marked the fire-storm's blazing flood 

Roaring and crackling on its path, 
Aud scoiching earth, aud melting wood, 

Bcucath its greedy wrath; 
Ke marked the rapid whirlwind shoot. 
Trampling the pine tree with its foot, 

.\ud darkening thick the day 
With streaming bough and severed root, 

Hurled whizzing on its way. 

His gaunt hound yelled, his rifle flashed. 

The grim bear hushed its savage growl. 
In blood and foam the panther gnashed 

Its faugs with dying howl; 
The fleet deer ceased its flying bound. 
Its snarling wolf foe bil the ground, 

Aud with its moaning cry. 
The beaver sank beneath the wound 

Its pond-built Venice by. 



Humble the lot, yet his the race! 

When liberty sent forth her eiy. 
Who thronged in Coufliet's deadliest placet 

To fight— to bleed— to die. 
Who eumbercd Bunker's height of red, 
By hope, through weary years were led, 

-Aud wituessed Yorktowu's sun 
Blaze on a Nation's banner spread, 

A Nation's freedom wou. 



THE FIRE OF DRIFTWOOD. 

n. W. LOSUFELLOW. 

We sat within the farm house old. 
Whose windows, looking o'er the bay, 

Gave to the sea-breeze, damj) and cold. 
An easy eutrauce, night aud day. 

Not far away we saw the port— 

The strange, old-i\isliioucd, silent town, 

The light-house — the dismantled fort — 
The wooden houses, quaint aud brov/a. 

We sat and talked until the night. 
Descending, filled the little room, 

Our faces faded from the sight. 
Our voices only broke the gloom. 

We spake of many a vanished scene, 
Of what we had ouce thought and said. 

Of what had been, and might have been, 
Aud who was changed, and who was dead; 

And all that fills the hearts of fricuds. 

When first they feel, with secret pain, 
Their lives thenceforth have separate ends. 

And never can be one again; 

The first slight swerving of the heart, 
That words are powciless to express, 

And leave it still unsaid in part. 
Or say it in too great excess. 

The very tones in which we spake 

Had something strange, I could but mai'k; 

The leaves of memory seemed to make 
A mournful rustling in the dark. 

Oft died the words upon our lips. 

As suddenly, from out the fire 
Built of the wreck of stiaudctl ships. 

The flames would leap aud then expire. 

And, as their splendor flashed aud failed. 
We thonght of wrecks upon the main. 

Of ships dismantled, that w ere hailed 
And sent no answer back agaiu. 

The windows, rattling in their frames — 
The ocean roaring up the beach — 

The gusty blast — the bickering flames — 
All mingled vaguely iu our speech; 



SELECT AMEHIOA.N POETRY. 



685 



Until they made tliemselvcs a part 
Of fancies floatiiitj tlirough tlic biaiu; 

The long-lost ventures of tlic heart. 
That scud no auswcre back agaiu. 

fames that pilovved ! hearts that yearn- 
They were indeed too much alciu, [ed ! 

The drift-wood file without that burned, 
The thouirhts (hat burned and glowed 
withiu. 



MARCO BOZZARIS.» 

FITZ-GREENE nAI.LECK. 

•Hefell in nn attack upon the Turlci?h cnnip 
at La^pi. the site of ancient Plata?a, Au- 
cust, 20, 1823. and expired in the ninment 
of victory. _ His last words were : " To die 
for liberty is a pleasure, not a pain." 

At midnight, in his prnarded tent. 

The Turk was drcamini of the hour 
When Giecce. her knee in suppliance bent, 

Should tremble at his power; 
In dreams, throuLch camp and court, he bore 
The trophies of a conqueror; 

In dreams his song of triumph heard: 
Then woi'e his monarch's siiruet ring: 
Then pressed that monarch's throne — aking; 
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 

.^s Eden's garden bird. 

At midnight, in the foi-est shades. 

Bozzaris ranged his Snliote band. 
True as the .■itccl of tlicir tried blades, 

Heroes in heart and hand. 
There had the Persian's thousands stood. 
There had the slad earth drunk their blood, 

On old Phitica's day: 
And now there breathed that liannteJ air 
The sons of sires who cnnqnered there. 
With arm to strike, and soul to dare, 

As quick, as far as they. 

An honr passed on — the Turk awoke; 

That bright dream was his last; 
He awoke — to hear his sentries shriek, 
"To arms! they come! the Greek! the 

Greek!'; ' 
He woke — to die midst flame, and smoke, 
.'Vnd shout, ami groan, and saber stroke. 

And death shots fallins thick and fast 
As liditnings from the mountain cloud; 
And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, 

Bnzzaiis cheer his band; 
"Strike — till the last armed foe expires; 
Strike for your altars and your fires; 
Strike — for the green graves of yonr sires; 

God — and your native laud !" 

1 hev fouirht — like bnve men. long and well; 

They piled that ground with Moslem slain; 
Thev ennoner'd — but Bozzaris fell. 

Bleeding at every vein. 
His few suiTiving comrades saw 
His smile when rang their proud hurrah, 



And the red field was won: 
Then saw in death his eyelids close 
Calmly. ,as to a night's repose. 
Like flowers at set of sun. 

Come to the bridal chamber, Dcathi 

Come to the mother's, wlien she feciS, 
For the first time, her firstborn's breath; 

Come when the blessed seals 
That close the jicstileuce are broke, 
And crowded cities wail its stroke; 
Come in consumption's ghastly form. 
The earthquake shock, the ocean-storm, 
Come when the heart beats high and warm. 

With bauq>ict-song, and dance, and wine; 
.'\nd thou ait teirlble — the tear. 
The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier; 
And all we know, or dream, or fear 

Of agony, arc thine. 

But to the hero, when his sword 

Has won the battle for the free, 
Thy voice soiinds like a prophet's word; 
And in its hollow tones are heard 

The thanks of millions yet to be. 
Come, when his task of fame is wrought — 
Come, with the laurel-leaf, blood-bought — 

Come in her crowning honr — and then 
Thy sunken eye's unearthly light 
To him is welcome as the sight 

Of sky and stars to prison'd men: 
Thy grasp is welcome as the hand 
Of brother in u foreign land; 
Thy summons welcome as the cry 
That told the Indian isles were nigh 

To the world-seeking Geuncse, 
When the land-wind, from woods of palm. 
And orange-groves, and fields of balm. 

Blew o'er the Haytiau seas. 

Bozzaris ! with the storied brave 

Greece nurtured in her glory's time, 
Rest thee — there is no prouder grave, 

Even in her own proud clime. 
She wore no funeral weeds for thee, 

Nor hade the dark hearse wave its plumei 
Like torn branch from death's leafless tree, 
In sorrow's pomp and pageantry, 

The heartless luxury of the tomb: 
But she remembers thee as one 
Long loved, and for a reason gone; 
For thee her poet's lyre is wreathed, 
Her marble wrought, her music breathed; 
For thee she i-ings the birthday bells; 
Of thee her babes' first lisping tells: 
For thine her evening prayer is said 
At palace couch, and cottage bed; 
Her soldier, closing with tlie foe. 
Gives for thy sake a deadlier blow; 
His ]>lightcd maiden, when she fears 
For iiini. the joy of her young years, 
Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears: 

And she. the mother of thy hoys, 
Though in her eye and faded check 
Is read the grief she will not speak. 

The memory of her buried joys. 



686 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



Anil even she V/ho save ttee Inith. 
Will, by their iiilgiiin-circled hearth, 

Talk of thy doom without a sigh; 
For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's, 
One of the few, the immortal uames, 

That were not boru to die. 



SONG OF MARION'S MEN. 

W. C. BllYANT. 

Our band is few, but true and tried. 

Our leader frank and bold ; 
The British soldier trembles 

When Marion's name is told. 
Our fortress is the good green wood. 

Our tent the cypress tree; 
We know the forest round us, 

As seamen know the sea. 
We know its walls of thorny vines. 

Its glades of reedy grass. 
Its safe and silent islands 

Within the dark morass. 

Wo to the English soldiery 

That little dread us near! 
On them shall light at midnight 

A strange and sudden fear: 
When, waking to their tents on fire. 

They grasp their arms in vain. 
And they who stand to face us 

Are beat to earth again; 
And they who fly in terror deem 

A mighty host behind, 
And hear the tramp of thousands 

Upon the hollow wind. 

Then sweet the hour that brings release 

From danger and from toil: 
We talk the battle over, 

And share the battle's spoil. 
The woodland lings with laugh and shout, 

As if a bunt were up. 
And woodland flowere are gather'd 

To crown the soldier's cup. 
With merry songs we mock the wind 

That in the pine-top grieves. 
And slumber long and sweetly 

Ou beds of oaken leaves. 

Well knows the fair and friendly moon 

The band that Marion leads — 
The glitter of their rifles, 

The scampeiing of their steeds. 
'Tis life to guide the fiery barb 

Across the monnliirht plain; 
'Tis life to feci the night-wind 

That lifts his tossing mane. 
A moment in the British camp — 

A moment — and away 
Back to the pathless foiest. 

Before the peep of day 



Grave men there are by broad Santce, 

Grave men with hoary hairs, 
Their hearts are all with Marion, 

For Marion are their prayers. 
And lovely ladies greet our band 

With kindliest welcoming. 
With smiles like those of summer. 

And tears like those of spring. 
For them we wear these trusty arms, 

And lay them down no more. 
Till we have driven the Briton 

Forever from our shore. 



THE SONG OF STEAM. 

GEORGE W. CUTTER. 

Late of Coviup:ton, Ky. 

Harness me dowu with your iron bands; 

Be sure of your curb and rein: 
For I scorn the power of your puny hands. 

As the tempest scorns a chain! 
How I laugh'd as I lay conceal'd from sighfc 

For many .1 countless hour. 
At the childish boast of hvirnan might, 

And the pride of human power! 

When I saw an army upon the land, 

A navy upon the seas. 
Creeping along, a suail-like band. 

Or waiting the wayward breeze; 
When I mark'd the peasant fairly reel 

With the toil which he faintly bore. 
As he feebly turn'd the tardy wheel, 

Or tugg'd at the weary oar: 

When I measured the panting courser'* 
speed, 

The flight of the courier-dove. 
As they bore the law a king decreed. 

Or the lines of impatient love — 
I could not but think how the world would 
feel, 

As these wei'e outstripp'd afar, 
When I should be bound to the rushing keel, 

Or chaiu'd to the flying car! 

Ha. ha. ha! they found me at last; 

They invited me forth at length, 
.^ud I rushed to my throne with a thundsr 
blast. 

And laugh'd in my iron strength! 
0! then ye saw a wondrous change 

On the earth and ocean wide, 
Where now my fiery armies range, 

Nor wait for wind and tide. 

Hurrah! hurrah! the water's o'er, 

The mountains steep decline; 
Time — space — have yielded to my power 

The world — the world is mine! 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



687 



The rireis the snn liath earliest hlcst, 
Or those where liis hraiiiis decline; 

The einut streams of the queenly West, 
And the Orient floods divine. 

The ocean pales where'er I sweep, 

To hear my strength rejoice. 
And the monsters of the briny deep 

Cower, trcmblius at my voice. 
I carry the wealtii and the lord of earth. 

The thoughts of his godlike mind; 
The wind lags after my flying forth, 

The lightning is left behind. 

In the darksome depths of the fathomless 
mine 

My tireless arm doth play, 
Where the rocks never saw the sun's decline. 

Or the dawn of the glorious day. 
I bring earth's glittering jewels up 

From the hidden cave below. 
And I make the fountain's granite cup 

With a crystal gush o'crflow. 

I blow the bellows, I forne the steel, 

In all the shops of tiade ; 
I hammer the ore and tnrn the wheel 

Where my arms of strength are made. 
I manage the I'urnace, the mill, the mint — 

I carry, I spin, I weave ; 
And all my doings I put into print 

On every Saturday eve. 

I've no muscles to weary, no breast to decay, 

No bones to be " laid ou the shelf," 
And soon I intend you may "go and play," 

While I manage this world myself. 
But harness me down with your iron bands. 

Be sure of your curb and rein : 
For I scorn the strength of your puny hands. 

As the tempest scorns a chain ! 



RHYME OF THE RAIL. 

JOn.V 0. SAXE. 

Born in IliKhgato, Vermont, in 1816 — Edu- 
cated for the bar — Many years editor of 
" The Heutinel,'' at Burlington, Vt. 

Singing through the forests. 

Rattling over ridges, 
Shooting under arches. 

Rumbling over bridges. 
Whizzing thromih the mouutains. 

Buzzing o'er the vale — 
Bless rac ! this is pleasant. 

Riding on the rail ! 

Men of difTerent "stations" 

In the eye of Fame, 
Here arc very quickly 

Coming to the same. 
High and lowly people, 

Binls of every feather. 
On a common level 

Traveling together I 



Gentleman in shorts. 

Looming very tall ; 
Gentlem.an at large ; 

Talkiiig veiy small ; 
Gentleman in tights. 

With a loosc-ish mien; 
Gentleman in gray. 

Looking rather green. 

Gentleman quite old. 

Asking for the news ; 
Gentleman in black. 

In a fit of blues ; 
Gentleman in claret. 

Sober as a vicar ; 
Gentleman in tweed, 

Dreadfully in liquor I 

Stranger on the right. 
Looking very sunny, 

Obviously reading 

Something rather funny. 

Now the smiles are thicker. 
Wonder what they mean 'i 

Faith, he's got the Knicker- 
bocker Magazine ! 

Stranger on the left, 

Closing up his peepers, 
Now he snores amain, 

Like the Seven Sleepci'S ; 
At his feet a volume 

Gives the explanation, 
How the man grew stupid 

From "Association !" 

Ancient maiden lady 

Anxiously remarks. 
That there must be peril 

'Mong so many sparks ; 
Roguish looking fellow, 

Turning to the stranger. 
Says it's his opinion 

She is out of danger 

Woman with her baby. 

Sitting vis-a-vis ; 
Baby keeps a squalling. 

Woman looks at me ; 
Asks about the dist^mce. 

Says it's tii-esome talking. 
Noises of the cars 

Are so very shocking ! 

Market woman careful 

Of the piccious casket. 
Knowing eegs are eggs. 

Tightly Imlds licr basket; 
Feeling that a smash. 

If it came, would surely 
Send her eggs to pot 

Rather prematurely ! 

Singing through the forests 
Rattling over ridges. 

Shooting under arches. 
Rumbling over bridges. 



688 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



'Whizziiip; through Ihe mountains, 

Buz;;iiig o'ei- the vale; 
Bless me ! this is pleasant, 

Riding ou tlie rail ! 



GONE. 



JOHN GKEENLEAP TVHITTIEB. 

Born in 1808 in HaTcrhill, Mass.. of Quaker 
parentage — The most noted of the poets 
of the anti-slavery party. 

Another hand is beekoning us. 

Another call is given ; 
And glows once more with Angel-step3 

Thepatli which reaches Heaven. 

Onr young and gentle friend whose smile 
Made brighter summer hours, 

Amid the frosts of autumn time 
Has left us, with the flowers. 

No paling of the chceic of bloom 

Foicwarned us of decay ; 
No shadow from the Silent Land 

Fell arouud our sister's way. 

The light ot her young life went down. 

As sinks behind the hill 
The glory of a setting star — 

Clear, suddenly, and still. 

As pure and sweet, her fair brow seemed — 

Eternal as tlie sky ; 
And like the brook's low song, her voicO'^ 

A sound which could not die. 

And half we deemed she needed not 

The ehaugmg of lier sphere. 
To give to Heaven a Sliiuiug One, 

Who walked an Angel here. 

The blessing of her qniet life 

Fell ou us like tlie dew ; 
And good thoughts, where her footsteps 
pressed. 

Like fairy blossoms grew. 

Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds 

Were in her Tery look ; 
We read be:- face, as one who reads 

A true and holy book : 

The measure of a blessed hymn. 
To which our hearts could move ; 

The Ijrcathing of an inward psalm ; 
A canticle of love. 

We miss her in the place of prayer. 
And by tlie hearth-fire's light ; 

We pause beside her door to hear 

Once more her sweet "Good night !" 

There seems a shadow on the day, 

Her smile no longer cheers ; 
A dimness on the stai-s of night, 

Like eves tliat look through teare. 



Alone unto our Father's will 
One thought hath reconciled ; 

That He whose love cxcecdeth oura 
Hath taken home His child. 

Fold her, oh Father ! in thine arms. 

And let her hencefo)th be 
A messenger of love between 

Our hnra.in hcails and Thee. 

Still let her mild rebuking stand 

Between us and the wrong. 
And ]ier dear memory serve to make 

Onr faith in Goodness strong. 

And grant that she who, trembling, here 

Distrusted all her powers. 
May welcome to her holier home 

The well beloved of ours. 



SNOW. 

KEV. RALPH nOYT. 

Born in New York alpout 1810— Clergyman of 
the Protestant Episcopal Church. 

The blessed morn is come again ; 

The early gray 
Taps at the slnmberer's window-pane. 

And seems to say 
"Break, break from the enchanter's chain, 

Away — away I" 

'Tis winter, yet there is no sound 

Along the aii-. 
Of winds upon their battle-ground; 

But gently there. 
The snow is falling — all around 

How fair — how fair ! 

The jocund fields would masquerade 

Fantastic scene ! 
Tree, shrub, and lawn, and lonely glade 

Have cast their green, 
And join'd the revel, all array'd 

So white and clean, 

K'en the old posts, that hold the bai'S 

And the old gate, 
Forgetful of their wintry wore 

And age sedate, |_sar8, 

High-capp'd, and plumed, like wliite bus. 

Stand there in state. 

The drifts are hanging by the sill. 

The eaves, the door ; 
The hay-stack has become a bill ; 

All cover'd o'er 
The wagon, loaded for the mill 

The eve before. 

Maria brings the water-pail^ 
But Where's the well I 
Like magic of a fairy tale, 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



089 



Most strange to tell, 
All vanish'd — curb, and crank, and rail- 
How dei'i) it fell ! 

The wood-pile too is playing hide ; 

The axe — tlie lo;^ — 
The kennel of that fiieiid so tried — 

(The old watcli dog), 
The grindstone standing by its side, 

All now incog. 

The bustling cock looks o\it aghast 

From liis high shed ; 
No spot to scratch him a repast, 

Up cnn'es his head. 
Starts the dull hamlet with a blast, 

And back to bed. 

The barn-yard gentry, musing, chime 

Their morning moan ; 
Like Memnon's nuibie of old time — 

That voice of stone ! 
So marbled they — and so sublime 

Their solemn tune. 

Good Ruth has called the yonnker folk 

To dress below ; 
Full welcome was the word she spoke, 

Down, down they go. 
The cottage quietude is bioke — 

The snow ! — the snow I 

Now rises from ai-ound the fire 

A pleasant strain ; 
Ye giddy sons of mirth, retire 

And ye profane — ■ 
A hymn to the Eternal Sire 

Goes up again. 

The pati-iarchal Book divine. 

Upon the knee. 
Opes where the gems of Judah shine — 

(Sweet niinstrelsie !) 
How soars each heart with each fair line, 

God ! to Thee ! 

Around the alter low they bend. 

Devout in jjrayer ; 
As snows upon the roof descend. 

So angels there 
Guard o'er that household, to defend 

With gentle care. 

Now sings the kettle o'er the blaze ; 

The buckwheat heaps ; 
Rare Mocdia, worth an Arab's praise, 

.Sweet Susan steeps ; 
The old round stand her nod obeys, 

And out it leaps. 

Unerring presages declare 

The banquet ne^ir ; 
Soon, busy appetites are there ; 

And di.-appear 
The gl0)ics of the ample fai-c, 

With thanks sincere. 



Now let the busy day begin : — 

Out rolls the clmru ; 
I'orth hastes the farm-boy, and brings iu 

The brush to burn ; 
Sweep, shovel, scour, sew, knit, and spin, 

Till night's return. 

To delve his threshing John must hie ; 

His sturdy shoe 
Can all the subtle damp defy : 

How wades he through ^ 
While dainty milkmaids, slow and shy. 

His track pursue. 

Each to the hour's allotted care : 

To shell the coi-n ; 
The broken harness to repair: 

The sleigh t' adoiu : 
So cheerful — tranquil — snowy — fair 

The Winter Morn. 



AN INCIDENT IN A RAILROAD CAR. 

JAMES W. LOWELL. 

Horn iu Bnston in 1810. 

He spoke of Eurns : men rude and rough 
Pi'css'd round to hear the praise of one 

Whose Iirait was made of manly, simple stuff, 
As homespun as their own. 

.\nd, when he read, they forward leaned, 
Drinkinff. with thirsty hearts and cars. 

His bi'ook-likc songs whom glory never wean- 
i'jom humble smiles aud tears. [e^ 

Slowly there grew a tender awe. 

Snn-ld;e, o'er faces brown and hard, 
As if in him who read they felt and saw 

Some presence of the bard. 

It «'as a sight for sin and wrong 

And slavisli tyranny to see, 
A sight to make our faith more pure and 

In high humanity. [strong 

I thought, these men will carry hence 
Promptings their former life above. 

And something of a finer I'cvercuce 
For beauty, truth, aud love. 

God scatters love on every side. 

Freely among his children all. 
Anil always hearts are lying open wide, 

Wherein some grains may fall. 

Tliei'c is no wind but soweth seeds 

Of a more true and open life, 
Which burst, nnlook'd-for. into high-sonl'd 

With wayside beauty rife. [deed* 

We find within these souls of ours 
Some wild gemis of a highei' birth. 

Which in the poet's tropic heart bear flowtn 
Whose fragram-c fills the earth. 



690 



SELECT AMERICAN POETIIT. 



Witliiii the henvts of nil men lie 

These promises of wider bliss, 
Which hlossoiii iuto hopes that cannot die, 

In snuny hours like tliis. 

All that hath heen mnjestical 

In life or death, since time began. 

Is native in the simple heart of all, 
The angel heart of man. 

And thns, among the untaught poor. 
Great deeds and feelings find a home, 

That cast in sliadow all the golden lore 
Of classic Greece and Rome 

0, mighty brothcr-sonl of man. 
Where'er thou art, in low or high. 

Thy skyey arches with eiultiug span 
O'er-roof infinity ! 

All thoughts that mold the age begin 
Deep down within the primitive sonl, 

And from the many slowly upward win 
To one who grasps the whole : 

In his broad breast the feeling deep 
That struggled on the many's tongue. 

Swells to a tide of thought, whose surges leap 
O'er the weak thrones of wrong. 

All thought begins in feeling — wide 
In the great mass its base is hid, 

And narrowing up to thought, stands glori- 
A moveless pyramid. [fled. 

Nor is he far astray who deems [broad 

That every hope, which rises and grows 

In tlie world's heart, by order'd impulse 
From the great heart of God. [streams 

God wills, man hopes : in common souls 
Hope is bnt vague and undefined. 

Till from the poet's tongne the message rolls 
A blessing to his kind. 

Never did Poesy appear 

So fnll of heaven to me, as when 
I saw how it would pierce through pride and 

To the lives of coarsest men. [tear 

It may be glorious to write 

Thoughts that shall glad the two or three 
High souls, like those far stars that come in 

Once in a century ; [sight 

lint better far it is to speak 

One simple word, which now and then 
Shall waken their lice nature in the weak 

And friendless sons of men ; 

To wiitc some earnest verse or Hue. 

Which, seeking not the praise of art. 
Shall make a clearerfaith and manhood shine 

In the nntutor'd heart. 

He who doth this, in verse or prose. 

May be forgotten in his day, 
linl surelyshall be crown'd at last with those 

Who live and speak for aye 



WOMAN. 

GEOUGE r. SIOKKIS. 

Ah, woman I in this world of ours, 
What boon can he comjjared to thee S 

How slow would drag life's weary hourSi 

Though mau's proud brow were bound with 
flowers. 
And his the wealth of land and sea. 

If destined to exist alone. 

And ne'er call woman's heart his ownl 

My mother I at that holy name 
Withi.i my bosom there's a gush 

Of feeling, which no time can tame — 

A feel jig, which, for years of fame, 
I would not, could not, crush ; 

And sisters ! ye are dear as life ; 

But when I look upon my wife. 

My heart blond gives a snddeu rnsli, 

.\ud all my fond affections hieud 

In mother, sister, wife, and friend. 

Yes, woman's love is free from guile, 

And pure as bright Aurora's lay ; 
The heart will melt before her smile. 

And base-horn passions fade away ; 
Were I the monarch of the eai-th. 

Or master of the swelling sea, 
I would not estimate their worth. 

Dear woman I half the price of thee ! 



MY BIRD. 

EMILY JUDSON. 

Born in Central New York — JIarriod in 18^ 
to Rev. Adouiram Judsun, missionary tc 
Burmah, India. 

Ere last year's moon hud left the sky, 
A hirdling sought my Indian nest. 

And folded, oh ! so lovingly ! 
Her tiny wings upon my breast. 

From morn till evening's pui-ple tinge. 
In winsome helplessness she lies ; 

Two rose-leaves, with a silken fringe. 
Shut softly on her stari-y eyes. 

There's not in Ind a lovelier bird ; 

Broad earth owns not a happier nest ; 
God, thou hast a fountain stirr'd, 

Whose waters never more shall rest. 

This beautiful, mysterious thing, 
This seeming visitant from Heaven, 

This bird with the immoi'tal wing. 
To me — to me, thy hand has given. 

The piilse first caught its tiny stroke. 
The blood its crimson hue from mine ; 

This life, which I have dared invoke. 
Henceforth is parallel with thine. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



G9L 



A silcut awe is in my room — 
I tremble with tlelicious feni'; 

The future, with its li^ht aud gloom, 
Time and Kteniity are here. 

Doubts — hopes, in eager tumult rise ; 

Hear, O my God ! oue earnest prayer ; 
Room for my bird in Paradise, 

And give her angel plumage there ! 



THE COUNTRY LOVERS; 

OR, BR. JONATHAN JOLTHEAD's COURTSHIP 
WrrH MIS3 SALLY SNAPPER. 

THOMAS GREEN FESSENDEN. 

Born in "Walpolo, N. R.. in 1"! — Lonff edi- 
tor of the nighly esteemed New England 
Farmer^ a Boston weekly paper. This 
poem was a favorite some sixty years ago. 

Tune — Yankee Doodle. 
A meri'y tale I will rehearse. 

As ever you did hear, sir. 
How Jonathan set out, so fieree, 
To see his dearest dear, sir. 

Y'ankee doodle, keep it up, 

Y'aukee doodle dandy, 
Mind the music, mind the step. 
And with the girls be handy. 

His father gave him a hran new suit. 

And money, sir, in plenty. 
Besides a prancing nag to boot, 

\Yheu he was one-and-tweuty. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

Moreover, sir, I'd have you know. 
That he had got some knowledge, 

Enongh for common use, I trow. 
But had not been at college. 

Y'aukec doodle, etc. 

A hundred he conld count, 'tis said, 

And in the hible read, sir, 
And by good Christiau parents bred. 

Could cveu say the creed, sir. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

He'd been to school to Master Drawl, 

To spell a-bom-in-a-ble. 
And svhen he miss'd, he had to crawl, 

Straight under master's table. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

One day his mother said to him. 

" My darling son, come here. 
Come fix you up. so neat and trim. 

And go a courting, dear." 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

"Why. what the deuce does mother want "i 

I snigs — T fInrcsrCt go ; 
I shall get funn'd — aud then — plague ou't 

P'olks » ill laugh at me so !" 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

44 



"Pho ! pho ! fix up. a courting go. 

To sec the deacon's Sarah, 
Who'll have a huudred pound, you know 

\s soon as she does marry." 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

Then Jonathan, in best array. 
Mounted his dappled nag, sir ; 

But trembled, sadly, all the way, 
Lest he should get tlie bag. sir. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

He niuttcr'd as he rode along. 

Our Jothom overheard, sir, 
And if 'twill jingle in my song, 

I'll tell you every word, sir. 

Y'aukee doodle, etc. 

'' I wonder mother '11 make me go, 

Since girls 1 am afraid of; 
I never knmo'd. nor want to kuow. 

What sort of stuff" they're made of. 
Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

"A wife would make good liousen stuff". 
If she were downright clever. 

And Sal would suit me well enough. 
If she would let me have her ; 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

" But then, I shan't know what to say, 

When we arc left togethei", 
I'd rather lie in stack of hay, 

lu coldest winter weather. 

Yaukec doodle, etc. 

He reach'd the house, as people say. 
Not fiir from eight o'clock, sir ■ 

.\nd .Toel hollow'd "in, I say," 
As soon as he did knock, sir. 

Y'aukee doodle, etc. 

He made of bows, 'twixt two and three. 
Just as his mother taught him. 

All which were droll enough to see : 
You'd think the cramp had caught him. 
Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

At length came in the deacon's Sal 
From milking at the barn, sir ; 

And faith she is as good a gal 
As evertwiatcd yarn, sir. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

For she knows all about aiTairs, 
Can wash, and bake, and brew, sir. 

Sing " Now I lay mc," say her prayers. 
And make a pudding too, sir. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

To Boston market she has been 

f)n horse, and in a wagon, 
And many pretty things has seen, 

Wliich every one can't brag on. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 



692 



SELECT AMERICAM POETRY. 



She's courted been, by many a lail, 

And knows bow sparkiiii/'s done, sir. 
With Jonathan she was riLcbt glad, 
To have a little fun, sir. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

The ladies all, as I should guess, 
And many a lady's man, sir, 

Would wish to know about her dress; 
I'll tell them all I can, sir. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

Her wrapper, gray, was not so bad, 
Her apron chcck'd with blue, sir. 

One stockins; on one foot she had, 
On t'other foot a shoe, sir. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

Now, should a Boston lady read. 
Of Sally's shoe and stocking. 

She'd say a " monstrous slnt. indeed. 
Oh la ! she is quite shonkini; !" 

Y^aukee doodle, etc. 

You fine Miss Boston laily gay, 
J^'or this yonr speech, I thank yc, 

Call on me, when yon come this way, 
And take a drachm of Yankee. 

Y'ankce doodle, etc. 

Now Jonathan did scratch his head. 
When first he saw his dearest ; 

Got up — sat down — and nothing said 
But felt about the queerest. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

Then t.alk'd with Sally's hi'other Joe 
'Bout sheep, and cows, ami osen, , 

How wicked folks to church did go. 
With dirty woollen fiocks on. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

And how a witch, in shape of owl. 
Did steal her neighbor's geese, sir. 

And turkeys too. and other fowl. 
When people did not please her. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

And how a man, one dismal night, 

Shot her with silver hnllet, 
And then she flew straight out of sight, 

As fast as she could pull it. 

Y'aukce doodle, etc. 

How Widow Wnnks was sick next day, 
The parson went to view her, 

And saw the very place, they say, 

Where foresaid ball went through her ! 
Yankee doodle, etc. 

.\nd now the people went 'o bed : 

They quess'd for what he'd come, sir ; 

But Jonathan was much afraid, 
And wish'd himself at home. sir. 

Y'.ankee doodle, etc. 



At length, says Sal, '^they're gone, you see. 

And we are left together ;" 
Say Jonathan, '• indeed — they be — 

'Tis mighty pleasant weather!" 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

Sal cast a sheep's eye at the dunce. 

Then turn'd toward the fire; 
He muster'd courage, all at once, 

And hitch'd a little nigher. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

Y'e young men all, and lads so smart. 
Who chance to read these vasses. 

His next address pray learn by heart. 
To whisper to the lasses. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

" Miss S.al. I's going to say, as how, 

We'll spark it here to-night, 
I kind of love you, Sal, I vow, 

And mother said I might," 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

Then Jonathan, as we are told. 

Did even thiuk to smack her , 
S.al cock'd her chiti, and look'd so bold, 

He did not dare attack her ! 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

" Well done, ray man. you've broke the ice, 

.■ind that with little pother. 
Now, Jonathan, t.ake my advice. 

And always mind your mother ! 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

This courting is a kind of job 

I always did admire, sir. 
And these two brands, with one dry cob, 

Will make a courting fire, sir," 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

" Miss Sal. you are the very she. 

If you will love me now. 
That I will maiTy— then you see, 

Y'ou'll have one brindle cow. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

''Then we will live, both I and yon. 

In father's t'other room. 
For that will snrtain hold us two. 

When we've mov'd out the loom. 
Y'ankee doodle, etc 

'■ Next Sabhath-day we will be cried, 

And have a • taring' \vcdding. 
And lads and lasses l:ike a ride. 

If it should be good sledding 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

"My father has a nice bull calf, 

Which shall be yonr's, my sweet one ; 

"Twill weigh two hundred and a half," 
Says Sal, ■■well, that's a neat one." 
Yankee doodle, etc. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETllY. 



693 



" Your Aitlier's full of fun, d'.ve see. 
And fnilli, I likrs his fporting, 

To send his fnWrite calf to me, 
His nice bull calf a courtiup;." 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

■' Arc you the lad who went to town, 
Put on your streaked trov^ses^ 

Then vow'd you could not see the town, 
The'e were so many houses ':" 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

Our lover huni his under lip. 

He thought she meant to joke him ; 
like heartless hen that has the pip, 

His courage all forsook him. 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

For he to Boston town had been, 

As matters here are stated ; 
Came home and told what he had seen. 

As Sally has related. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

And now he wish'd he could retreat, 
But dar'd not make a racket ; 

ft seem'd as if his heart would beat 
The buttons ofF his jacket ! 

Y'aukee doodle, etc. 

Sal osk'd him if his heart was whole?" 

His chin began to quiver ; 
He said, he felt so deuced droll, 

He guess'd he'd lost his livcv ! 

Yankee doodle, etc 

Now Sal was scar'd out of her wits. 

To see his trepidation. 
She bawl'd "he's going into fits," 

And scamper'd like the nation ! 

Y'ankee doodle, etc. 

A pail of water she did throw, 

All on her trembling lover, 
Which wet the lad from top to toe, 

Like diowned I'at all over. 

Yankee doodle, etc. 

Then .Jonathan straight Iiied him home, 
And since Tve heard lum lirag, sir. 

That though the jade did wet him some. 
He didn't get the bag, sir ! 

Y'ankee doodle, keep it up. 

Y'ankee doodle dandy, 
Mind the music mind the step. 

And with the girls be handy I 



THE FLIGHT OF TIME. 

J.VMFS G. PERCIVAI.. 

Faintly flow, thou falling river. 
Like a dream that dies away ; 

Down to ocean crliiling ever, 
Keep thy calm unruffled vay : 



Time with such a silent motion 
Floats along, on wings of air. 

To eternity's dark ocean, 

Bulging all its treasures there. 

Roses bloom, and then they wither ; 

Cheeks are bright, then fade and die 
Shapes of light are wafted hither — 

Then, like visions hurry by : 
Quick as clouds at evening driven 

O'er the many-color'd west. 
Years are bearing us to heaven. 

Home of happiness and rest. 



FIFTY YEARS AGO. 

A BONG OF THE WESTERN PIONEERS. 
WII,I,I.\M n. G.ILL.IGHER. 

Born in Pliiladclphia in ISOa.— Bred a prin- 
ter in Cincinnati — Lastingly idcutilied 
with the literature of the west. 

A song for the early times out west. 

And our green old forest-home. 
Whose pleasant memories fi-eshly yet 

Across the busom come : 
.\ song for the free and gladsome life 

In those early days we led, 
With a teeming soil beneath our feet, 

And a smiling heaven o'erhead ! 
O, the waves of life danced meriily 

.And had a joyous flow. 
In the days when wc were pioneers. 

Fifty }ears ago ! 

The hunt, the shot, the glorious chase, 

The captured elk or deer ; 
The camp, the big, bright fire, and thea 

The rich and wholesome cheer; 
The sweet, sound sleep, at dead of night. 

By onr camp-fire blazing high — 
Unbroken by the wolf's long howl. 

And the panther springing by. 
O merrily pass'd the time, despite 

Our wily Indian foe. 
In the days when we were pioneers, 

Fifty years ago ! 

We shunn'd not labor; when 'twas due 

We wrcnvght with light good will 
And for the home we won for them, 

Our children bless us still. 
We lived not heiuiit lives, but oft 

In social converse met ; 
And fires of love were kindled then, 

That burn on warmly yet. 
0, pleasantly the stream of life 

Pursued its constant flow, 
In the days when we were pioneere, 

Fifty years ago ! 

We felt that we were fellow men ; 

We felt we were a band ; 
Sustain'd here in the wilderness 

By heaven's upholding hand. 



69i 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



And when tbe solemn Sabbath came. 

We sather'd in the wood, 
And lifted up our hearts iu prayer 

To God, the only good. 
Our temples theu were earth and sky ; 

Noue others did we know 
la the days when we were pioneers, 

Fifty years ago ! 

Our forest life was rough and rude, 

And daugcis closed us rouud, 
But here, amid the green old tices. 

Freedom we sought and found. 
Oft through our dwellings wiutry blasts 

Wonld rush with shriek and moan ; 
We cared not— though they were but frail 

We felt they were our own ! 
0, free and manly lives we led, 

Mid verdure or mid snow. 
In the days when we were piouccis, 

Fifty years ago ! 

But now our course of life is short ; 

And as, from day to day, 
We're walkiug on with halting step, 

And fainting by the way. 
Another land, more bright than this. 

To our dmi sight appears. 
And on our way to it v.-e'll soon 

Again he pioneers ! 
Yet while we linger, we may all 

A backward glance still throw 
To the days when we were pioneers, 

Fifty years ago ! 



UNSEEN SPIRITS. 

N. P. WILLIS, 

The shadows lay along Broadway — 
'Twas near the twilight-tide — 

And slowly there a lady fair 
Was walking in her pride. 

Alnnc walked she ; but, viewlessly. 
Walked spirits at her side. 

Peace charm«d the .street beneath her feet. 

And Honor charmed the air ; 
And all astir looked kiud on her, 

And called her good as fair — 
For all God ever gave to her 

She kc])t with chaiy care. 

She kept with care her beauties rare 
Fi-om lovers warm and true — 

I'ur her heart was cold to all but gold. 
And the rich came not to woo — 

But honored well are charms to sell 
If priests the selling do. 

Now walkiug there was one more fair — 

A slight gu-l, lily -pale ; 
And she had uusceu company 

To make the spirit quail— 
Twixt Want and Scoin she walked forlorn. 

And nolhing could avail. 



No mercy now can clear lier hvovr 
For this world's peace to pray; 

For, as love's wild prayer dissolved in air 
Her woman's heart gave way ! 

But the sin forgiveu by Clirist in heaven 
By man is curst alway ! 



ANNABEL LEE. 



E. A. roE. 



may 



It was many and mauy a year ago. 

In a kingdom by the sea. 
That a maideu there lived whom you 
know- 
By the name of Annabel Lee ; 
And this maiden she lived with no other 
thought 
Thau to love and be loved by me. 

/ was a child and she was a child. 
In this kingdom by the sea; 
But we loved with a love that was more 
than love — 
I and my.'Vuuabel Lee — 
With a love that the winged seraphs of 
heaven 
Coveted her and me. 

And this was the reason that, long ago. 

In this kingdom by the sea. 
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling 

My beautiful Annabel Lee; 
So that her higliboru kinsmen came 

And bore her away from me, 
To shut her up in a sepulcher, 

In this kingdom by the sea. 

The angels, not half so happy iu heaven. 

Went envyiug her and me — 
Yes! that was the reason (as all men kuow. 

In this kingdom by the sea). 
That the wiud came out of the cloud by uight, 

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. 

But our love it was stronger by far than the 
love 

Of those who were older than we — 

Of mauy far wiser than we— 
And neither the angels iu heaven above, 

Nor the demons down under the sea. 
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 

Of the beautiful .\unabel Lee : 

For the moon uever beams, without bringing 
me dreams 
Of the beautiful Aunabel Lee ; 
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright 
eyes 
Of the beautiful Aunabel Lee: 
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the 

side 
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my 
bride, 
Iu her sepulcher theie by the sea — 
In her tomb by the sounding sea. 



SKLECT AMEPJCAX POETRY. 



695 



IN BLESSING -THOU ART BLESSED. 

WILLIAM W. I'OSDICK. 

Born in Louisville, Kentucky, in 182-1. 

Freely give, for while bestowiug 

Antrel eyes thy bounty mark. 
And their seraph forms all glowing 

Shall dispel the [gloomy dark. 
While the midnight I'oitU is straying, 

They shiU guard thee in thy rest, 
And shall whisper low in praying. 

That in blessing thou art blessed. 

When the bitter winter lingers, 

And the friendless child is cold, 
Let thy pity's rosy fingers 

Drop the widow's mite of gold. 
And wheu oft the spring recalling 

Bids the swallow to her nest. 
Joys, like blossoms around thee falling. 

Prove in blessing thou art blessed. 

Canst thou dry the tear of sorrow "i 

Canst thou make the sad one sing 'i 
^ 01 the spiiit of each morrow. 

Will a brighter bkssiug bring. 
Tbouiih the purse be all the poorer, 

Thou art richer in the breast, 
For on earth there's nothing trnei' 

Thau in blessing we are blessed. 



THE HERITAGE. 

JAUES EL'SSELL LOWELL. 

The rich man's son inherits lands, 

And piles of brick, and stone, and gold, 

.\nd he inherits soft white bands, 
.\nd tender ilesh that fears the cold. 
Nor dares to wear a garment old ; 

A bcriUge, it seems to me, 

One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 

The rich man's son inherits cares ; 

The bank may break, the factory burn, 

A breath m.ay hurst his bubble shares, 
And soft white bauds could hardly earn 
A Hviug that would sei-ve his turn ; 

A heritage, it seems to mc, 

One scarce wouUI wish to hold in fee. 

The rich man's son inherits wants. 
His stomach craves for dainty fare : 

With sated heart, he hears the pants 
Uf toiling hinds with brown arms bare, 
.\ud weal ics in his easy chair ; 

A heritage, it soenis to mc. 

One scarce wonld wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man's son inherit 'i 
Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, 

A hardy frame, a hardier spirit; 

King of two hands, he does his part 
la every useful toil and art ; 



A heritage, it seems to me. 

A kiug might wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man's son inherit 9 
Wishes o'eijoy'd with humble things, 

A rank adjudged by toil- won merit, 
Content that from cmploymeut springi 
A heart that in his labor sings ; 

A heritage it seems to mc, 

A kiug might wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man's son inherit ? 
A patience learu'd by being poor, 

Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, 
.\ fellow-feeling that is sure 
To make the outcast bless his door; 

A heritage it seems to me, 

A kiug might wish to hold in fee. 

0, rich mail's son ! there is a toil, 
That with all others level stands; 

Large chaiity doth never soil, 

tint only whiteu soft white hands — 
This IS the best crop fiom thy lauds ; 

K beiitagc it seems to me. 

Worth being rich to hold in fee. 

0, poor man's sou, scorn not thy state ; 
There is worse weariness than thine, 

\\\ merely being rich and great : 
Toil ouly gives the soul to shine, 
And makes rest fragrant and benign ; 

.\ heritage it seems to me. 

Worth being poor to hold in fee. 

lioth, heirs to some six feet of sod, 
Are equal in the earth at last ; 

Both, child len of the same dear God, 
Prove title to your heirship vast 
By record of a vvell-fiU'd past ; 

-V heritage it seems to me. 

Well worth a life to hold in fee. 



ON LISTENING TO A CRICKET. 



ANDREWS NORTON. 

Horn at Hingham, Ma.ssachusetts. in 1780— 
J*rofessor in Theological Dcpartiucat Id 
Harvard — Died in lb53. 

I love, thou little chirping thing. 

To hear thy melancholy noise ; 
Though thou to Fancy's ear may sing 

Of summer past and fadiug joys. 

Tlion canst not now diink dew from flowers, 
Nor sport along the traveler's path ; 

But. thrcnigh the winter's weary hours, 
Shalt warm thee at my lonely hearth. 

And when my lamp's decaying beam 
lint dimly slions the lettered page 

Rich with some ancient poet's dream. 
Or wisdom of a pure age — 



696 



SELECT AMEKICAN POETRY. 



Thea will I listen to tbe souiul, 
AqcI musing o'er the embers pale 

With wbiteuiug ashes strewed aiouuil, 
The forms of memoi-y uuvail : 

Recall tbe mauy-coloreil dreams 
That faucy loudly weaves for youth 

Wbeu all tbe hright illusiou seems 
The pictured promises of Truth ; 

Perchance observe the fitful light, 
And its faint flashes round tbe room, 

And tbiiilv some pleasures feebly bright 
May lighten thus life's varied gloom ; 

I love tbe quiet miil night hour. 

When due and Hope and Passion sleep, 
And Reason with untroubled power 

Can her late vigils duly keep. 

I love the uigbt ; and sooth to say, 
Before the merry birds that sing 

lu all the glare and noise of day, 
Prefer the cricket's grating wing 



BALLAD. 

EMU\ C. EMBURY. 

Daughter of a New York physician. — First 
appeared as an authoress in 'i&28. 

The maiden sat abher busy wheel. 

Her heart was liglit aud free. 
And ever in cheerful song broke forth 

Her bosom's harmless glee : 
Her song was in mockery of love, 

And oft I heard her say, 
"Tbe gathered rose and the stolen heart 

Can charm but for a day." 

I looked on the maiden's rosy cheek. 

And her lip so full aud bright, 
And I siirhed to think that tbe traitor love 

Should conquer a heart so light : 
But she thought not of future days of woe. 

While she caroled iu tones so gay — 
"The gathered rose and tbe stolen heart 

Can charm but for a day." 

A year passed ou, and again I stood 

By the humble cottage door ; 
Tbe maid sat at her busy wheel, 

But her look was blithe no more; 
Tbe big tear stood in her downcast eye. 

And with sighs I beard her say, 
" The gathered rose and tbe stolen heart 

Can charm but for a day." 

0, well I knew what had dimmed her eye, 

And made her cheek so pale : 
Tbe maid had forgotten her early song. 

While she listened to love's soft tale ; 
She had tasted the sweets of his poisoned cup. 

It bad wasted her life away — 
And tbe stolen heart, like tbe gathered rose. 

Had charmed but for a dav. 



THE PARTING 



ANDUEWS .NORTON. 



We did not pai-t as othei-s part ; 

And should we mi«t on earth no more, 
Yet dee[> aud dear within my heart 

Some thoughts will rest a treasuied stora. 

How oft. when weary and alone, 

Have 1 recalled each woril, each look. 

The meaning of each varying tone, 
Aud tbe last parting glance we took ! 

Yes, sometimes even here arc fonnd 

Those who can touch tbe chords of love, 

Aud wake a glad and holy sound. 
Like tliat » bich fills the courts above 

It is as when a traveler heai's. 

In a strange land, his native toDgue, 

."V voice he loved iu happier years, 
A song tthich once his mother .sung 

We part ; tbe sea may roll between, 

W liile we through diflerent climates roam; 

Sad days — a life — may intervene : 
But we shall meet again at home. 



THE BABE AND THE LILY. 

JAMES W. WARD. 
PAUL. 

See, Mary, iu this golden sunset glow. 

And flood of splendor, see 
How fair, of all the joyous flowers that blow 

Blooms here, for you and me. 
For you aud me, dear Mary, day and night, 

This lovely lily, robed iu virgin white. 

What spotless beauty in its fragrant cup ; 

And as it graceful bends 
Its snowy kirtle, as the breeze comes up. 

Its dainty breath it blends. 
Its breath it blends, dear Mary, with the 

smell 
Of flowery meadow, and dew-sprinkled dell. 



Lightly, lift lightly, Paul, the vail that hides 

As a soft cloud vails the sky, 
Her who sleeps here, whose innocence divides 

The love that you and I, 
That you and I, dear Paul, owe one another. 
In future to be shared by this sweet other 

How tranquil, and how beautiful, the sleep 

Of sinless infancy ! 
And as iu silence here our watch we keep, 

I Ipve to tliiuk that she. 
To think that she, dear Paul, our little May, 
Is like tbe lily bloom we saw to-day. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



697 



PAUL. 

Tlir storm is ovor, M:ii-y, niul tlie breeze 
Stre;iins ihmu tlie dripping vulc, 

Aiul ilif? iiway in mi'rinuiing melodies; 
But >cc. tlie wiiywnril iiale, 

The wayward iiale, dear Mary, has laid low 

Our beauteous lily, with its cheeks of snow. 

And here, prosti'ate in sand and wet, it lies ; 

Thus, beaten down and torn, 
Fair nature's lovcliucss deeays and dies ; 

liut do nut let us niouru, 
Noi mourn, dear Mary, siuce we know that 

still 
Our fairy lily lives, our licr.vts with joy to fill. 

MARY. 

Softly, tread softly, Paul, she sleeps agaiu ; 

So gently, and so deep, 
I fear — wateliini; in silence here, that when 

She next shall wake from sleep. 
Shall next awake, dear I'aul, her feet will 

stand. 
Sweet lily, planted on the better land. 

'Tis over, now ; — our babe, like that frail 
flower 
The rude winil swept away, 
Fs dead ; — but said you not that wind, and 
shower. 
Sickness, and death, obey. 
Obey, dear I'aul, the voice of Him wlio gives 
Beauty, and life, and sleep, to all that lives S 



THE VILLAGH BI,.\CKS.MITH. 

HENKY W. l.ONCFELLOW, 

Under a spreading chesnut tree 

The village smithy stands ; 
The smith, a mighty man is he, 

With large and sinewy bauds; 
.\nd the muscles of his brawuy arms 

Are strong as iron bands. 

His hair is crisp, and black, and long ; 

His face is like the t^in ; 
His brow is w et with honest sweat ; 

He eains whate'er he can, 
\nd looks the whole woild in the face, 

For he owes not any man. 

^'eek in, week otit. from morn till night. 
You can bcai- his bellows blow ; 

Vou can hear him swing his heavy sledge. 
With measured beat and slow, 

Like a sexton ringing the village bell 
When the evening sun is low. 

And children coining home from school 

Look in at the open door ; 
They love to see the llaming foi-ge, 

And hear the bellows roar. 
And eateh the burning sparks that fly 

Like chaff from u thre;hing-floor. 



He goes on Snuday to the church. 

And sits among his boys ; 
He hears the parson pray and preach, 

He he:irs his daughter's voice, 
Singing in the village choir. 

And it makes his heart rejoice. 

It sounds to him like her mother's voice, 

Singing in I'aradi.-e ! 
He needs must think of her once more. 

How in the grave she lies ; 
And witli his liard, rough hand he \vipe« 

A tear out of his eyes. 

Toiling — rejoicing — soiTOwiug — 
Onward through life he goes ; 

Each morning sees some task begun. 
Each evening sees it close ; 

Something attempted — sometliing done, 
Has earned a night's repose. 

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, 
For the lesson thou hast tauglit ! 

Thus at the tlaming forge of Life 
Our fortunes must be wrought, 

Thus on its sounding anvil sliaped 
Each burning deed and thought. 



THE LITTLE GIRL UNUEK THL 
SNOW. 

MARY I.OI'ISA CniTWOOD., 

A young lady of Mt. Carmel. Indiana, who 
died in K"^Jti. " She possessed extraoi^ 
dinary geniu.^. Her whole nature wa.s 
deeply and intensely poetical." 

They arc all asleep ; each curl-sweapt heail 

Ilests on its pillow white : 
I have stolen around to each quiet bed, 

Again and agrun, to-uigiit. 
But now, as I sit in my old arin-chaii', 

In the firelight's golden glow, 
My heart will go, in its mute despair, 

To the little girl under the snow. 

I dare not gaze out on tlie world to-night. 

But I hear the loud winds roar; 
I know the drifts are deep and white 

Around my eotlagc door. 
I bend again o'er each little bed. 

And hear the breathings low 
Of my sleeping babes — but oh, the dead! 

The little girl under the snow. 

O ! does she not start, in her dreamless sleep. 

With a low, wild cry of fcari 
Sometimes. I think I liear'her weep. 

With a mother's listening car. 
Cold, e(dd is she in her shroud of white. 

In the di.-mal grave so low : 
I would the were here in my arms to-niglit — 

The little ii'nl under the snow. 



698 



SELECT AMERICAX POETRY 



Be; "itiU, my heart! Tu tlie Summer time 

We laid her dowu to rest ; 
We said she had gone to a fairer clime — 

Slie had gone to Jesus' breast ; 
That He, iu His own dear love would keep 

tfer safe from another woe — 
O, should we not cuvy the dreamless sleep 

Of the little girl uuder the snow i 

And but for the livim^ my tears should be, 

As I think of my little band, 
Seattercd like blossoms ou the sea, 

\Vhen the tempest sweeps the land. 
O, shield them. Father, with Thine own love, 

AVherever their feet may go, 
And bring them safe to the home above, 

Uf the little girl under the snow. 



THE WAYSIDE SPRING. 

THOMAS BUCHANAK BEAD. 

Born in Chester County, Fa., in 1S32. An 
artist hy prntession, and called " the 
Fainter-Foot." 

Fair dweller by the dusty way — 
Bright saint within a mossy shrine, 

The tribute of a heart to-day 
Weary and worn is thine. 

The earliest blossoins ol the year. 
The sweet-brier and the violet 

The pious hand of Spring has here 
Upou tliy altar set. 

.\nd not alone to thee is given 

The liouinge of the pilgrim's knee — 

But oft the sweetest birds of Heaven 
Glide down and sing to thee. 

Here daily from his beeeheu cell 
The hcimit squirrel steals to drink. 

And flocks which cluster to their bell 
Recline along thy briuk. 

And here the wagoner blocks his wheels. 
To quatFthe cool and generous boon j 

Here, from the sultry haivest fields 
The reapers rest at noon. 

And oft the beggar mai-ked with tan. 
In rusty garments gray with dust. 

Here sits and dips his little can. 
And bre.aks his scanty crust ; 

And, lulled beside thy whispering stream, 
Ott dropc to slumber unawares. 

And sees the angel of his dream 
Upon celestial stairs. 

Dear dweller by the dusty way. 
Thou sanit within a mossy shrine, 

The tribute of a heart to-day 
Weary and worn is thine ! 



HEAVEN. 



WILLIAM B. TAPPAN. 



There is an hour of peaceful rest 
To mourniug wanderers given ; 
There is a joy for souls distrest, 
A balm for every wounded breast — 
'Tis found alone, in heaven. 

There is a home for weary souls. 

By sin and sorrow driven : 
When toss'd ou life's tempestuous shoals. 
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls, 

Aud all is drear, but heaven. 

There faith lifts up her cheerful eye, 

To brighter prospects given. 
And views the tempest passing by ; 
The evening shadows quickly fly, 

Aud all's serene, in heaven. 

There, fragrant flowers immortal bloom. 

And joys supreme are given ; 
Theie, lays divine disperse the gloom — 
Beyond the confines of the tomb 
Apiiears the dawn of heaven. 



EXTRACTS FROM "THE SONG OV 
HIAW.VTHA," 

H. W. LONGFELLOW. 

This much admired poem is founded on a tr.T- 
dition prevalent among the North Ameri- 
can Indians of a personage of miraculous 
birth, who was sent among them to clear 
their rivers, forests and hshing-grounds, 
and to teach them the arts of peace. He 
was known among different tribes by 
several names, one of which was Hiawatha. 
Into this old traditiim lias been woven 
many curious Indian legends. The scene 
of the poem is among the Ojibways, on the 
southern shore of Lake Superior. 

The first extract we make is the wooing of 
W^abun. '* Wabun." signifies, *' the East 
Wind." and his bride, " Wabun Annung, 
" the Morning Star." 

Young and beautiful was Wabun ; 
He it was who brought the morning. 
He it was whose silver arrows 
Chased the dark o'er hill and valley ; 
He it was whose cheeks were painted 
With the brightest streaks of crimson, 
Aud whose voice awoke the village. 
Called the deer, aud called the hunter. 

Lonely iu the sky was Wabun; 
Though the birds sang g.\vly to him. 
Though the wild-flowers of the meadow 
filled the air with odors for him, 
Though the forests and the rivers 
Sang aud shouted at his coming. 
Still liis heart was sad within him. 
For he was alone in heaven. 



But 



one morning 



gazing earthward. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



«99 



Wliilc tlio village still was sleeping, 
Aihl the fiij; lay on the rivei', 
Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, 
1I(! bchi'ld a maiileu walking 
All alone npou a meadow, 
Gatlierini;- watei'-llags and rushes 
13j- a river in the meadow. 

Every nnrniug, gazing eai-tliward. 
Still the first thing he hehcld there 
Was her bine eyes looking at him. 
Two bine lakes among the rushes. 
And he loved the lonely maiden, 
Who tlms wailed for his coming ; 
For they both were solit.iry, 
She DU earth and he in heaven. 

And he wooed her with caresses. 
Wooed her with his smile of sunshine, 
With his Mattering words he wooed her, 
With his sighing and his singing. 
Gentlest \vlii>pers in the branches. 
Softest music, sweetest odors. 
Till be drew her to his bosom, 
I'oliled in his robes of crimson. 
Till into a star he i-lianged lier. 
Trembling still npon his bosom; 
And for ever in the heavens 
They are seen together walking, 
Waliuu and the Wabun-Auuuug, 
Wabnu and the Star of Morning. 

The chnplcr."The Famine," begins with 
this vivid picture of Winter : 

O the long and dreary Winter 1 
O the cold and cruel Winter ! 
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
Froze the ice on lake and river. 
Ever deeper, deeper, deeper 
Fell the snow o'er all the landscape, 
Fell the covering snow, and drifted 
Through the forest, round the village. 

Hardly from his buried wigwam 
I'iould the hunter force a passage ; 
With his mittens and his snow-shoes 
Vainly walked he through the forest. 
Sought tin- bird or beast and found uonc. 
Saw no track of deer or rabbit. 
In tlie snow beheld no foot-prints, 
In the ghastly, gleaming forest 
Fell, and could not rise for weakness, 
i'erished there from cold aud hunger. 

O the famine and (he fever ! 
O the wasting of the famine! 
O the blasting of the fcs'cr ! 
() the wailing of the children! 
<) the anguish of the women! 

All the earth was sick and famished ; 
Ilnugry was the air around them, 
llungiy was the sky above them, 
.Vnd the hungry stars in heaven 
I.,ike the eyes of wolves glared at thcni ! 

Into Hiawatlia's vvigw.im 
Gttuic two other guests, as silent 



.Vs the ghosts were, and as gloomy. 
Waited not to be invited. 
Bid not parley at the doorway. 
Sat there without word of welcome 
lu the seat of Laughing Water ; 
Looked with haggard eyes and hollow 
At the face of Laughing Water. 

.'Vnd the foremost said: "Behold me! 
I am Famine, Jinkadawin!" 
.Vnd the other said : " Behold me! 
I am Fevei', .Vhkosewin ! " 

Wo close wirh Hiawatha's vision of the 
coming of the White Faces. 

Only Hiawatha laughed not, 
But he gravely spake and answered 
To their jeering and their jesting : 
'True is all lagoo tells us; 
T have seen it in a vision. 
Seen the great eanoe with pinions. 
Seen the people with white faces. 
Seen the coming of this bearded 
People of the wooden vessel 
From the regions of the morning, 
From the shining land of Wabnu, 

"Gitche Manito, the Mighty, 
The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
Sends them liither on his errand. 
Sends them to us with his message, 
Whei'esoe'er they move, before them 
Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo, 
Swaims the bee, the honey-maker ; 
WhercsoeVr they tread, Iteneath them 
Sprinirs a flower unkimwn among us, 
S|nings the White-mau's Foot in blossom. 

" Let US welcome, then, the strangers. 
Hail them as oni" friends and brothers, 
.\nd th(! heart's right hand of friendship 
Give them when they come to see us. 
Giiehe Manito, the Mighty, 
Said this to me in my vision. 

'I beheld, too, in that vision, 
.Ml the secrets of the future, 
or the distant days that shall be. 
I beheld the westward marches 
Of the unknown, crowded nations. 
,M1 the land was full of people, 
llestless, struggling, toiling, striving, 
Speaking many tongues, yet feeling 
lint one heart-heat in their bosoms, 
lu the woodlands rang tlu'ir axes. 
Smoked their towns in all the vajleys, 
Over all the lakes and rivers 
Rushed their great canoes of thunder. 

"Then i darker, drearier vlsio". 
Passed before me, vague and cloud-like, 
I beheld our natious scattered, 
-Ml forgetful of my counsels, 
Weakened, warring with each other; 
Saw the reminmts of our people 
iSweeping westward, \\ild and wofnl. 
Like the cloud-rack of a tempest. 
Like the withered leaves of autumn! " 



700 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



THE FARMER SAT IN HIS EASY 
CHAIR. 

CHARLES G. EASTMAN. 

Editor at ilontpelier, Vermont— in 1848 pub- 
lished a collection of poems. 

The farmei* sat iu bis easy chair, 

Smokins his pipe of clay, 
While his hale oKi wife with busy care 
Was clearing the dinnei' away ; 
A sweet little girl with fiue blue eyes 
Ou her grandfather's knee was catching flies. 

The old man laid his hand ou her head, 

With a tear ou liis wrinkled face; 
He thought how olteu her mother, dead, 
Had sat iu the self-same place : 
As the tear stole dowu from his half-shut 

eye — 
"Don't smoke," said the child; "how it 
makes you cry!" 

The house-dog lay stretch'd out ou the 
floor 
Where the shade after noon used to 
steal ; 
The busy old wife by the open door 
Was turuiug the spinuing-wheel ; 
And the old brass clock on the raanteltree 
Had plodded along to almost three : 

Still the farmer sat in his easy chair. 

While close to his heaving breast 

The moisten'd brow and cheek so fair 

Of his sweet grandchild were press'd ; 

His head, bent dowu, on her soft hair lay — 

Fast asleep were they both, that summer day. 



ELLA. 



JAJIES W. WARD. 



If your child, the gentle Ella, 
Stood iu rags, in dirt and patches ; 
Had no dress, save one so tattei'cd 

You would blush to see her wear it; 
Had uo shoes, and scarce a stocking 
To her feet, frost-bit and bleeding. 
As she. cold and houseless, wandered ; 

Tell me how your heart could bear it. 

Should your Ella, child beloved. 
Destitute and hungry beggar. 
Beg a crust fi'om Dives' table, 

Taste it not, but run to share it — 
Run in baste to share the morsel 
With a fceljler, sufTriug sister. 
Shivering iu some tireless hovel ; 

Could you, unaffected, bear it '5 

Should the child of your affection. 
Your sweet Ella, pure and truthful, 
Be ex])osed to lui-cs and peiils 
That would craftily eusnare it, 



By enticements gross and brutish. 
Into vice and degradatiou, 
Daily, iu the streets and by-ways ; 
Think, think, if you could bear it. 

But your Ella, has she, think you, 

Jnster claims to be protected 

From such wretchedness and ruin — 

Dares your seliish pride declare it? 
Higher right to be exempted 
From such peril and exposure, 
Thau the thousand daily victims 

That are helpless left to bear it 5 



MY NATIVE LAND. 

There lies my loved, my native land — 
A laud with eveiT gift replete — 

All perfect from its Maker's hand, 
Au empire's glorious seat! 

.^ud far removed from thrones and slaves, 

There Freedom's banner proudly waves. 

The frigid and the torrid clime. 

The temperate and the genial beam; 

The vale, the monntaiu-top sublime. 
The arid plaiu, the swelling stream; 

There linked in union's golden chain. 

Bear witucss to her vast domain. 

Her mountains look o'er realms serene. 
O'er waving fields and cities free; 

And mightiest rivers roll between. 
And hear her wealth from sea to sea: 

While o'er old Ocean's farthest deep 

Her bauner'd navies proudly sweep. 

On Plymouth's rock the pilgrim lands, 
His comrades few, and faiut with toil; 

While warring tribes in countless bands 
Koam lawless o'er the uucnltur'd soil. 

A few brief years have rolled away. 

And those dark wairiors — where are theyS 

And where are those, the heroic few. 
That lauded on that rocky shore's 

Their voice still rings — their spirit too 
Still breathes, and will for evermorel 

For in their sons still liurn those fires 

That freedom kiudled iu their sires. 

'Tis something though it be not fame. 
To know we spring from noble race; 

To feel no secret blush of shame 
For those we love suffuse our face; 

Then let us to our sons transmit 

A land and a name unsullied yet. 

To us was left, in deathless trust, 
A realm reJeeiued. a glorious uame. 

The ashes of the brave and just, 
Fair lieedtim and immortal fame ! 

And iu our hearts the courage dwells 

Which humau power with scorn repels. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 



roi 



Wo'vc not to weep o'er glory fieJ; 

We've uot to biootl o'er servile wo; 
We call not ou the illustrious dead 

To shield us from a living foe. 
And should our pride be e'er o'erthrown, 
'Twill he hy native swords alone. 

The standard whieh our sires unfurled, 
And whieh through peril's path tliey bore, 

Now floats o'er half the western world, 
And waves ou many a distant shorel 

And long shall wave, triumphant, free, 

O'er dome and tower, o'er laud and sea! 

For me — whatever be my fate, 
Wherever cast — my country still 

Shall o'er each thought predomiuate, 
And through each pulse unceasing thrill. 

My prayer, with life's last ebbiug sand. 

Shall be for thee, my native laud ! 



YOUR rURSE AND HEART. 

W. D. GALLAGHEK. 

Open not your purse alone. 

Its lucre to impart; — 
Of the two 'tis better far 

You freely ope your heart. 
That which wrings the bosom most. 

Your money wout allay; 
Symp.ithy's the suu that tunis 

Its darkness iuto day. 

For the body, if ye will. 

Your bread and bioth still dole; 
Love's the only nourishment 

That satisfies the stuil. 
Giiuiliiig change like that ye give. 

May please the baser part. 
But kind and gentle words and looks 

Alone can reach the heart. 

Warmth's not all the poor demand. 

Nor shelter, nor yet food — 
Y'e wlio pause, bestowing these. 

Withhold the greater good. 
What they want, and what require 

All things else above. 
Is kindly interest in their fite, 

And sympathy, and love. 



rOETRY. 



JAMES G. PEKCIVAL. 



The world is full of Poetiy — the air 

Is living with its spirit ; and the waves 

Dance to the music of its melodies. 

And sparkle in its brightness — Earth 18 

vailed. 
And mantled w ith its beauty ; and the walls. 
That close the universe, witji ci'vstal, in. 
Are eloquent with voices, Uiat proclaim 



The unseen gbtrics of immensity, 
In harmonies, too pei-fect, and too high 
For aught, but beings of celestial mould, 
.•\nd speak to man, in one eteinal hymn. 
Unfading beauty, and unyielding power. 



THE FALL OF NIAGARA. 

JOHN G. C. BRAINARD. 

Born in New London, Conn., in 1790. and 
died in 1858. These," the most sugsestivo 
and sublime stanzas upon Niagar.a that 
were ever penned," were written by one 
who had never been within five hundred 
miles of the cataract. 

The thoughts are strange that crowd iuto my 

brain, 
While I look upward to thee. It would 

seem 
As if God pour'd thee from his "hollow 

hand." 
And hung his bow upon thine awful front ; 
And sjiokc in that loud voice, which seem'd 

to him 
Who dwelt in Patraos for his Savionr's sake, 
"The sound of nniny waters;" and had bade 
Thy flood to chrouicde the ages back. 
And notch Mis centuries iu the eternal rocks. 

Deep callcth unto deep. And what are we. 
That hear the question of that voice sublimed 
')! what are all the notes that ever rung 
From war's vain trumpet, by thy thunder- 
ing s'de ! 
Vea. what is all the riot man can make 
In his sliort life, to thy unceasing roai- ! 
.\nd yet, bold blabber, what art thou to Him 
Who drown'd a world, and heaped the wa- 
ters far 
Above its loftiest mountains "i — a light wave, 
That breaks, and whispers of its Maker's 
might. 



HOME. 

JA5IE.S G. PEKCIVAL. 

My place is iu the quiet vale. 

The chosen haunt of simple thought; 
I seek not foitune's ilatteiiiig gale, 

I better love the peaceful lot. 
I leave the woild of noise and show, 

To wander by my native brook; 
I ask, in life's unruffled llcjw, 

No treasure but my f; iend and book. 

These better suit the trau<iuil home. 

Where the clear water nuirmiirs by; 
And ii I wish awhile to roam, 

I have an neean in the sky. 
Fancy can charm and feeling bless 

With sweeter hours than fashion knowb, 
There is no calmer quietness 

Thau home arouud the bosom throws. 



702 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

WILL THE KEW-YEAR COME TO-NIGHT, MAMMA 'i 

CORA M. EAGER. 

Will the New- Year come to-night, mamma? I'm tired of waiting so. 

My stocking hung h_v the chimney-side full throe long days ago ; 

I run to peep within the door by morning's early light, 

'T is empty still — oh, say, mamma, will the New- Year come to-night ? 

Will the New-Ye.ar come to-night, mamma ? the snow is on the hill, 

And the ice mnst be two inches thick upon the meadow's rill. 

I heard you tell papa, last night, his son must have a sled, 

(I didn't mean to hear, mamma), and a pair of skates, you said. 

I prayed for just those things, mamma. I shall be full of glee. 
And the orphan boys in the vilLage school will all be envying me ; 
But I'll give them toys, and lend them books, and make their New-Yo.ir 

glad, 
For God, you say, takes back his gifts when little folks are bad. 

And wont you let me go, mamma, upon the New-Year's day, 

And carry something nice .and warm to poor old widow Gray ? 

I'll leave the basket near the door, within the garden gate. 

Will the New- Year come to-night, mamma ? it seems so long to wait. 



The New-Year comes to-night, mamm.a, I saw it in my sleep. 

My stocking hung so full, I thought — mamma, what makes you weep? 

But it only held a little shroud — a shroud, and nothing more ; 

And an open cofiSn, made for me, was standing on the floor ! 

It seemed so very strange, indeed, to find such gifts, instead 

Of all the toys I wished so much — the story-books and sled. 

But while I wondered what it meant, you came with tearful joy, 

And said, " Thou'lt find the New-Year first ; God calleth thee, my boy !" 

It is not all a dream, mamma, I know it must be true ; 
But have I been so bad a boy, God taketh me from you ? 
I don't know what jiapa will do, when I am laid to rest — 
And you will have no Willie's head to fold upon your bre.ost. 

The New-Year comes to-night, mamma — your cold hand on my cheek, 
And raise my head a little more — it seems so hard to speak ; 
You needn't fill my stocking now, I cannot go and peep, 
Before to-morrow's sun is up, I'll be so sound asleep. 

I shall iiot want the skates, mamma, I'll never need the sled ; 
But wont you give them both to Blake, M'ho hurt me on my head ? 
He used to hide my books aw.ay, and tear the pictures too, 
But now he'll know that I forgive, as then I tried to do. 

And, if you please, mamma, I'd like the story-books and .slate 
To go to Frank, the drunkard's boj-, you wouldn't let me hate ; 
And, dear mamma, you wont forget, upon the New-Year's day, 
The basketful of something nice for poor old widow Gray ? 

The New-Year comes to-night, mamma — it seems so very soon — 
I think God didn't hear me .ask for just another June. 
I know I've been a thoughtless boy, and made you too much care, 
And. maybe, for your sake, mamma, He doesn't hear my prayer. 



SELECT AMERTCAK POETRY. 703 

There's one tliina; more, my pretty pels, the mbin ami the dove, 

keep for you and dear papa, and teach them how to love. 
The garden rake, the little hoe— you'll find them ninely laid 
Upon' the garret floor, mamma, the place where last I played. 

1 thon-ht to need th.em both so much when summer comes again 
To make my garden by the brook that trickles through the glen; 
I thought to gather flowers, too, beside the forest- walk, 

And sit beneath the apple-tree where once we sat to talk. 

It cannot be ; but you will keep the summer-flowers green, 

And plant a few— don't cry, mamma— a very few, I mean. 

Where I'm asleep. I'd sleep so sweet beneath tlie apple-tree. 

Where you and robin, in the morn; may come and sing to me. 

The New-Year comes— good night, mamma—" I lay me down to sleep, 

I pray the Lord " — tell poor papa—" my soul to keep ; 

If I —how cold it seems— how dark— kiss me, I cannot see— 

The New- Year comes to-night, mamma, the old year — dies with me." 



THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 

SAMUEL WOOnwOBTH. 

Born at Scitnate, Massachusetts, in 1796-liio(l a Printer, and e.lito.l a paper in New york- 

llicd inl><4i:. 

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood. 

When fond recollection presents them to view ! 
The orchard, the meadow, the deep- tangled wildwood. 

And every loved spot which my infancy knew ! 
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it, 

The bridge, and the rock where the catar.act fell. 
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it. 

And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well — 
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, 
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well 

That moss-cover'd vessel I hail'd as a treasure, 

For often at noon, when returned from the field, 
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure. 

The purest and sweetest that Nature can yield. 
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, 

And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; 
Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing, 

And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well — 
The old oaken'bucket, the iron-bound bucket. 
The moss-cover'd bucket arose from the well. 

How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it, 

As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips ! 
Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, 

The brightest that beauty or revelry sips. 
And now, far removed from the loved habitation. 

The tear of regret will intrusively swell. 
As fancy reverts to my fathei-'s plantation, 

And sighs for the bucket that hangs in the well— 
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket. 
The mosB-covcr'd bucket that hangs in the well '. 



704 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY 

LOOK ALOFT. 

.lONATnAN LAWRENCE, 

Born in New York in 1807— Gi-aduateJ at Columbia College— Diel in 1833. 

In the tempest of life, when the wave and the gale 
Are around and above, if thy footing should fail, 
If thine eye should grow dim, and thy caution depart, 
" Look aloft," and be firm, and be fearless of heart. 

If the friend, who embraced in prONperity's glow, 
With a smile for each joy and a tear for each wo, 
Shoulil betray thee when sorrows like clouds are arrav'd, 
" Look aloft " to the friendship which never shall fade. 

Should the visions which hope .spreads in light to thine eye, 
Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to flv. 
Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret, 
" Look aloft" to the sun that is never to set. 

Should they who are dearest, the son of thy heart. 
The wife of thy bosom, in sorrow depart, 
"Look aloft" from the darkness and dust of the tomb, 
To that soil where " affection is ever in bloom." 

And, ! when death comes in his terrors, to cast 
His fears on the future, his pall on the past. 
In that moment of darkness, with hope in thy hearL 
And a smile in thine eye, " look aloft," and depart ! 



THANATOPSIS. 



WILLIAM CULLEM BRTAN'T. 



Born in Cummington, Mass.. in 1794 — Graclnate of Williams College — Editor of New York 
Kvening Post^This noble poem— a death hymn- was written in his eighteenth year. 

To him who in the love of Nature holds 
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language ; for his gayer hours 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
Into his darker musings, with a mild 
And healing sympathy, that steals away 
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts 
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 
Over thy spirit, and sad images 
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart ; — 
Go forth, under the open sk}-, and list 
To Nature's teachings, while from all around — 
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air, — 
Comes a still voice — Yet a few days, and thee 
The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground. 
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, 



SELECT AMERICAN POETKY. 705 

Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist 

Thy imase. Eartli, that nourished thee, shall claim 

Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, 

And, lost each human trace, surrendering up 

Thine individual being, shall thou go 

To mix forever with the elements, 

To be a brother to the insensible rock 

And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain 

Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak 

Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. 
Yet not to thine eternal resting-place 

Shalt tliou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish 

Couch mure magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 

With patriarchs^'of the infant world— with kings, 

The powerful of the earth— the wise, the good, 

Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages jxast, 

All in one mighty sepulcher. The hills 

Rock-ribbed and "ancient as the sun— the vales 

Stretching in pensive quietness between ; 

The venerable woods — rivers that move 

In majesty, and the complaining brooks 

That malic the meadows green ; and, poured round all. 

Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste- 
Are but the solemn decorations all 
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, 
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, 
Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread 
The globe are but a liandful to the tribes 
That'shimbcr in its bosom— Take the wings 
Of morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, 
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, 
Save his own dashings— yet— the dead are there 
And millions in those solitudes, since first 
The flight of years began, have laid them down 
In their last sleep— the dead reign there alone. 
So sh.alt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw 
In silence from the living, and no friend 
Take note of thy departure ? All that breathe 
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care 
Plod on, and each one as before will chase 
His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave 
Their mirth and their emph>yment.s, and shall come. 
And make their bed with thee. As the long train 
Of ages glide away, the sons of men, 
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes 
In the full strength of years, matron, and maid, 
And the sweet bal>e, and the gray headed man — 
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, 
By those, who in their turn shall follow them. 

'So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan, which moves 
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take 
liis chamber in the silent halls of death. 
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave al night. 



JOQ SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 



IT SNOWS. 



SAEAn J. HALE. 

Born about the beginnins of this century, in Newport. N. H. — In 1823, being left a widow 
with five children, all under eisht years of .age, she turned her attention for their sup> 
port, to literature, in which she has gained eminence. 

" It snows !" cries the school-boy — " hurr.ah !" and his shout 

Is ringing through parlor and h.all, 
While su-ift as the wing of a swallow, he's out, 

And his playmates have answered his call. 
It makes the heart leap but to witness their joy — 

Proud wealth has no pleasures, I trow, 
Irike the rajiture that throbs in the pulse of the boy, 

As he gathers the treasures of snow ; 
Then lay not the trappings of gold on thine heirs, 
While health, and the riches of Nature are theirs. 

" It snows !" sighs the imbecile — Ah !" and his breath 

Comes heavy, as clogged with a weight ; 
While from the pale aspect of Nature in death 

lie turns to the blaze of his grate : 
And nearer, and nearer, his soft cushioned chair 

Is wheeled tow'rds the life-giving flame — 
He dreads a chill puff of the snow burdened air, 

Lest it wither his delicate frame ; 
Oh ! small is the pleasure existence can give, 
Wheu the fear we shall die only proves that wo live ! 

"It snows!" cries the traveler — Ho!" and the word 

Has quickened his steed's lagging pace ; 
The wind rushes by, but its howl is unheard, 

Unfelt the sharp drift in his face ; 
For btight through the tempest his own home appeared — 

Ay ! though leagues intervened, he can see 
There's the clear, glowing hearth, and the table prepared. 

And his wife with their babes at her knee. 
Blest thought ! how it lightens the grief-laden hour, 
That those we love dearest are safe from its power. 

" It snows !" cries the Belle — Dear how lucky," and turns 

From her mirror to watch the flakes fall ; 
Like the first rose of summer, her dimpled cheek burns 

While musing on sleigh-ride and ball : 
There are visions of conquest, of splendor and mirth, 

Plo.ating over each drear winter's day ; 
But the tintings of Hope, on this storm-boa,ten earth. 

Will melt, like the snowflakes aw.ay : 
Turn, turn thee to Heaven, fair maiden, for bliss 
That \»or1d has a fountain ne'er opened in this. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 707 

" It snows !" cries the widow — 0, God !" and her sighs 

Have stifled the voice of her prayer, 
Its burden j'e'll read in her te.ir-swollen eyes, 

On her chcel;, sunk with fasting and care. 
'Tis night — and her fatherless ask her for bread — 

But " He gives the young ravens their food," 
And she trusts, till her dark hearth adds horror to dread, 

And she lays on her last chip of wood. 
Poor suff'rer ! that sorrow thy God only knows — 
'Tis a pitiful lot to be poor, when it snows ! 



BLESSINGS ON CHILDREN. 

WILLIAM OILMORE SIMMS. 

Born in Charleston, S. C, in ISOft. 

Blessings on the blessing children, sweetest gifts of Heaven to earth, 
Filling all the heart with gladness, filling all the house with mirth ; 
Bringing with them native sweetness, pictures of the primal bloom, 
Which the bliss forever gladdens, of the region whence they come 
Bringing wdth them joyous impulse of a state withouten care, 
And a buoyant faith in being, which makes all in nature fair ; 
Not a doubt to dim the distance, not a gi-ief to vex thee, nigh. 
And a hope that in existence finds each hour a luxury ; 
Going, singing, bounding, brightening — never fearing as they go, 
That the innocent shall tremble, and the loving find a foe ; 
In the daylight, in the starlight, still with thought that freely flies, 
Prompt and joyous, with no question of the beauty in the skies; 
Genial fancies winning raptures, as the bee still sucks her store. 
All the present still a garden gleaned a thousand times before ; 
All the future, but a region, where the happy serving thought 
Still depicts a thousand blessings, by the winged hunter caught; 
Like a chase where blushing pleasures only seem to strive in flight, 
Lingering to be caught, and yielding gladly to the proud delight; 
As the maiden, through the alleys, looking kackward as she flies, 
Woos the fond pursuer onward, with the love-light in her eyes. 

0! the happy life in children, still restoring joy to ours. 
Making for the forest music, planting for the way-side flowers ; 
Back recalling all the sweetness, in a pleasure pure as rare, 
Back the past of hope and rapture bringing to the heart of care. 
How, as swell the happy voices, bursting through the shady grove, 
Memories take the place of sorrows, time restores the sway to love ! 
We are in the shouting comrades, shaking ofi" the load of years, 
Thought forgetting, strifes and trials, doubts and agonies and tears; 
We are in the bounding urchin, as o'er hill and plain he darts, 
Share the struggle and the triumph, gladdening in his heart of hearts ; 
What an image of the vigor and the glorious grace we knew. 
When to eager youth from boyhood, at a single bound we grew ! 
Even such our slender beauty, such upon our cheek the glow, 
In our eyes the life and gladness — of our blood the overflow. 
Bless the mother of the urchin ! in his form we see her trutli : 
He is now the very picture of the memories in our youth ; 
Never can we doubt the forehead, nor the sunny flowing hair. 
Nor the smiling in the dimple .speaking chin and cheek so fair ; 
45 



70S SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

Bless the mother of the young one, he hath blended in his grace, 
All the hope and joy and l>eautj-, kindling once in either face. 

0! the hap])y faith of children ! that is glad in all it sees, 

And with never need of thinking, pierces still its mysteries 

In simplicity profoundest, in their soul abundance blest, 

Wise in value of the spiortive, and in restlessness at rest ; 

Lacking every creed, yet having faith so large in all they see. 

That to know is still to gladden, and 'tis rapture but to be. 

What trim fancies bring them flowers; what rare spirits walk their wood 

What a wondrous world the moonlight harbors of the gay and good ' 

LTnto them the very tempest walks in glories grateful still. 

And the lightning gleams a seraph, to pursuade them to the hill : 

'Tis a sweet and loving spirit, that throughout the midnight rains, 

Broods beside the shuttered windows, and with gentle love complains ; 

And how wooing, how exalting, with the richness of her dyes, 

Sjians the painter of the rainbow, her bright arch along the skies, 

With a dream like Jacob's ladder, showing to the fancy's sight, 

How 'twere easy for the sad one to escape to worlds of light ! 

Ah ! the wisdom of such fancies, and the truth in every dream, 

That to faith confiding offers, cheering every gloom, a gleam ! 

Happy hearts, still cherish fondly each delusion of your youth, 

Joy is born of well believing, and the fiction wraps the truth. 



THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. 

WILLIAM CFLLEN BKYANT. 

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year. 

Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. 

Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; 

They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. 

The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay. 

And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day 

Where are the flowers, the fair yoimg flowers, that lately sprang and stood 

In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? 

Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers 

Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. 

The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain 

Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. 

The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago. 

And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow ; 

But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, 

.'\nd the yellow sun-flowers by the brook in autumn beauty stood. 

Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men. 

And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen. 

And now, when comes the calm mild day, .as still such days will come 

To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home : 

AVhen the sound of drojiping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still. 

And twinkle in the smoky light the w.aters of the rill. 

The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore. 

And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. 

And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died. 

The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side : 



SELECT AHERICAISr POETRY. yog 

In the cold moist earth we laid her when the forests cast the leaf, 
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: 
Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that 3-oung friend of oura, 
So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with tlie flowers. 



SEASONS OF PRAYER. 



KEV. nENKY WARE, D.D. 



Born in Hinghnm, Mass. — Professor in the Theolo^ic-.l Department of Harvard University. 

Did in IS«. 

To prayer, to prayer — for the morning breaks, 
And earth in her Maker's smile awakes. 
His light is on all below and above, 
The light of gladnes.s, and life, and love. 
O, then, on the breath of this earlj' air, 
Send up the incense of grateful prayer. 

To prayer — for the glorious sun is gone, 

And the gathering darkne.ss of night comes on. 

Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows, 

To shade the conch where his children repose. 

Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright, 

And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night 

To prayer — for the day that God has bless'd 
Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest. 
It speaks of creation's early bloom ; 
It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb. 
Then summon the spirit's exalted powers. 
And devote to Heaven the hallow'd hours. 

There are smile and tears in the mother's eyes, 

For her new-born infant beside her lie.s. 

O, hour of bliss ! when the heart o'erflows 

With rapture a mother only knows. 

Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer; 

Let it swell up to heaven for her precious care. 

There .are smiles .and tears in that gathering band, 
Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand 
What trying thoughts in her bosom swell. 
As the bride bids parents and home farewell ! 
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair. 
And strenghten the jjerilous hour with prayer. 

Kneel down by the dying siinier's side. 
And pray for his soul through llim who died. 
Large drops of anguish are tliick on his brow — 
O, what is earth and its pleasures tiow ! 
And what shall assuage his dark despair, 
But the penitent cry of humble prayer ! 

Kneel down at the couch of departing faith. 
And hear the last words the belicivcr saith. 
He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends ; 
There is peace in his eye that upward bends ; 



710 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

There is peace in his calm, confidinsc air; 

For his last thoughts are God's, his last words prayer. 

The voice of prayer at the sable bier ! 
A voice to sustain, to soothe and to cheer. 
It commends the spirit to God who gave ; 
It lifts the thoughts from the cold, dark grave ; 
It points to the glnry where he sliall rei^n, 
Who whisper'd, " Tiiy brother shall rise again." 

The voice of prayer in the world of bliss 
But gladder, purer, than rose from this. 
The ransoni'd shout to their glorious King, 
Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing ; 
But a sinless and joyous song they raise ; 
And their voice of prayer is eternal praiseu 

Awake, awake, and gird up thy strength 

To join that holy band at length. 

To Him who unceasing love displays. 

Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise, 

To Him thy heart and thy hours be given ; 

For a life of prayer is the life of heaven. 



THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 



FRANCIS SCOTT KEY. 



A lawyer of Baltimore, who was temporarily a prisoner on board of ono of the British shipi 
in tho war of 1813, at the time of the bombardment of Fort McHenry. '" He watehed tho 
flag oyer the fort the whole day with intense anxiety, and in the night the bombshells; 
but he saw at dawn 'the star-spangled banner' still waving oyer the defenders. 'The 
following song was partly composed before he was set at liberty." He died in 1843. 

! say can you see by the dawn's early light, 

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming — 
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, 

O'er tho ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming ! 
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air. 
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there ; 
0! say does that star-spangled banner yet wave 
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave ! 

On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, 
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes. 
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, 

As it fitfully blows, now conceals, noiv discloses? 
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, 
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream ; 
'Tis the star-spangled banner, long may it wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore 
That tho havoc of war and the battle's confusion 

A home and a country should leave us no more ? 

Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. 

No refuge could .save the hireling and slave 

From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave ; 



SKLECT AMEIUCAN POETRY. 71t 

Ami the star-spangleil banner in triumph doth wave 
O'er the Umd of the free, and the home of the brave. 

O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand 

Between their loved homes and the war's desolation, 
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven rescued land 

Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a natiou 
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, 
And this be our motto — " In God is our trust" — 
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave 
O'er the laud of the free and the home of the brave. 



AN EVENING REVERY. 

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 

The summer day is closed — the sun is set : 
Well they have done their office, those bright hours. 
The latest of whose train goes softly out 
In the red West. The green blade of the ground 
Has risen, and herds have cropped it ; the young twig 
Has spread its plaited tissues to the sun ; 
Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown 
And withered ; seeds have fallen upon the soil. 
From bursting cells, and in their graves await 
Their resurrection. Insects from the pools 
Have filled the air awhile with humming wings, 
That now are still forever; painted moths 
Have wandered the blue sky, and died again ; 
The molher-bird hath broken for her brood 
Their prison shell, or shoved them from the nest. 
Plumed for their earliest flight. In bright alcoves, 
lu woodland cottages with barky walls. 
In noisome cells of the tumultuous town. 
Mothers have elapsed with joy the new-born babe. 
Graves by the lonely forest, by the shore 
Of rivers and of ocean, by the ways 
Of the thronged city, have been hollowed out 
And filled, and closed. This day hath parted frieuda 
That ne'er before were parted ; it hath knit 
New friendships ; it hath seen the maiden plight 
Her faith, and trust her peace to him who long 
Had wooed : and it hath heard, from lipis which lato 
Were eloquent with love, the first harsh word, 
That told the wedded one her peace was flown. 
Farewell to the sweet sunshine ! One glad day 
Is added now to Ghildliood's merry days, 
And one calm day to those of quiet Age. 
Still the fleet hours run on ; and as I loan, 
Amid the thickening darkness, lamps are lit, 
. By those who watch the dead, and those who twine 
Flowers for the bride. The mother from the eyes 
Of her sick infant shades the painful light. 
And sadly listens to his quick-drawn breath. 

O thou great Movement of the Universe, 
Oi Change, or Flight oi' Time — for ye are one 



712 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

That bearest, silently, this visible scene 

Into night's shadow and the streaming rays 

Of starlight, whither art thou bearing me? 

I feel the mighty current sweep me on, 

Yet know not whither. Man foretells afar 

The courses of the stars ; the very hour 

lie knows when they shall darken or grow bright : 

Yet doth the eclipse of Sorrow and of Death 

Come unforwarned. Who next, of those I love, 

Shall pass from life, or sadder yet shall fall 

From virtue ? Strife with foes, or bitterer strife 

With friends, or shame and general scorn of men — 

Which who can bear ? — or the fierce rack of pain, 

Lie tliey within my path ? Or shall the yeaw 

Push me, witli soft and inoffensive pace, 

Into the stilly twilight of my age ? 

Or do the portals of another life 

Even now, while I am glorying in my strength, 

Impend around me ? ! beyond that bourne. 

In the vast cycle of being which begins 

At that broad threshold, with wdiat fairer forms 

Shall the great law of change and progress clothe 

Its workings ? Gently — so have good men taught — 

Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide 

Into the new ; the eternal flow of things. 

Like a bright river of the fields of heaven. 

Shall journey onv/ard in perpetual peace. 



THE INDEPENDENT FARMER. 

MBS. SUSANNA KOWSON. 

When the bonny gray morning just peeps from the skies, 
And the lark mounting tunes her sweet lay ; 

With a mind unincumbered by care I arise, 
My spirits, light, airy, and gay. 

I take up my gun ; honest Tray, my good friend, 
Wages his tail and jumps sportively' round ; 

To the woods then together our footsteps we bend, 
'Tis there health and pleasure are found. 

I snuff the fresh air ; bid defiance to care. 

As happy as mortal cau be ; 
From the toils of the great, ambition and state, 

'Tis my pride and my boast to be free. 

At noon, I delighted range o'er the rich soil, 

And nature's rough children regale : 
With a cup of good home-brew'd I sweeten their toi!, 

And laugh at the joke or the tale. 

And whether the rijie waving corn I behold. 

Or the innocent flock meet my sight ; 
Or the orchard, whose fruits is just turning to gold, 

Still, still health and pleasure unite. 



SELECT AMERICAX POEIRY. 

I snufl" the fix-sh air ; bid defiance to care, 

As hapin- as mortal can be ; , 

From the toils of the great, ambition and state, 

'Tis my pride and my boast to be free. 

At ni-'ht to my lowly roof'dcot I return, 

When oh, what new sonrces of bliss ; 
My children rush out, while their little hearts burn. 

Bach striving to gain the first kiss. 

My Dolly appears with a smile on her face, 

Good inimor presides at our board ; 
What more than health, plenty, good humor, and peace, 

Can the wealth of the Indies afford ? 

I sink into rest, with content in my breast. 

As happy as mortal can be ; 
From the toils of the great, and ambition and state, 

>Tis my pride and my boast to be free. 



THE BALLAD OF THE OYSTERMAN. 

0. W. HOLMES. 

It was a tall young oystorman lived by the river side _ 
His shop was just npon the bank-his boat was on the ide ; 
The daughter of a fisherman, that was so straightand slim. 
Lived over on the other bank, right opposite to hira. 

It was the pensive oysterman that saw a lovely maid. 
Upon a moonli-ht evening, a sitting in the shade ; 
He saw her wave her handkerchief, as much as if o say, _ 
" I'm wide awake, young oysterman, and all the folks awa>. 

Then up arose the oysterman, and to himself said lie, 

" I tues^ I'll leave the skiff at home for (ear that folks should see; 

I read it in the story-book, that for to kiss hisdcar, 

Leander swam tlie Hellespon^-and I will swim this here. 

And he has leaped into the waves and crossed the shining streani, 

And he has clambered up the bank, all in the moonlight gleam , 

there were kisses sweet as dew, and words as soft as ram. 

But they have heard her father's step, and in be leaps again ■ 

Out spake the ancient fisherman, '• what was that, my daughlor ?" 

" 'T was nothing but a pebble, sir, I threw into the water . 

"And what is that, pray tell me, love, that paddles off so fast__. 

"It's nothing but a porpoise, sir, that's been a swimming i.asl. 

Out spake the ancient fisherman, "Now bring me my harpoon ; 

I'll tU into mv fishing boat, and fix t.he fellow soon ; 

Down fell that pretty innocent, as falls a snow-white lamb. 

Her hair drooped round her pallid cheeks, like sea-weed on a clam. 

Alas for two loving ones! she waked not from her swound, 
And'he was taken with the cramp, and in the waves was drowned . 
But Fate has metamorphosed them, in jaty of their wo, 
And now they keep an oyster-shop for mermaids down below. 



714 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

SWEET HOME. 

JOHN HOWAKD PAYNE. 

Born in New York in 1"92 — His career as an actor and dramatist was remarkable— He died 
white U. 8. Consul at Tunis, in 3852. "As a poet he will be known only by a singlo 
sone," and by this for all time. " Home, Sweet Home " is from an opera, called " Clari ; 
or. The Maid of Milan." It wjls written by him for Charles Kenil)le, manager of (^ovent 
Garden Theater, London. The opera made the fortune of every one prominently con- 
nected with it, except the nutlior, who received only thirty pounds. "Itgained for Mi^s 
M. Tree, the elder sister of Mrs. Charles Kean— who first sang, ' Home, Sweet Home '—a 
wealthy husband, and filled the house and the treasury." 

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, 

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home ! 

A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, 

Which seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. 

Home! home, sweet home ! 

There's no place like home ! 

An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain ; 

0, give me my lowly thatched cottage again, 

The birds singing gayly that come at my call : 

Give me these, and the peace of mind, dearer than all. 

Home ! sweet, sweet home ! 

There's no place like home ! 



BROTHER, COME HOME. 

MRS. CATHEBLVE H. ESUNG. 

Born in Philadelphia, in the year lbl2. 

Come home, 
Would I could send my spirit o'er the deep, 
Would I could wing it like a bird to thee, 
To commune with thy thoughts, to fill thy sleep 
With these unwearying words of melody : 
Brother, come home. 

Come home, 
Come to the hearts that love thee, to the eyes 

That beam in brightness but to gladden thine. 
Come where fond tlioughts like holiest incense rise, 
Where cherish'd memory rears her .altar's shrine : 
Brother, come home. 

Come home. 
Come to the hearth-stone of thy earlier days, 

Come to the ark, like the o'er-wearied dove. 
Come with qhe sunlight of thy heart's warm rays, 
Come to the fire-side circle of thy love : 
Brother, comd home. 

Come home. 
It is not home without thee ; the lone seat 

It is still unciaim'd where thou were wont to be, 
In every echo of returning feet. 

In vain we list for what should herald thee: 
Brother, come home. 



SELECT AMERICAX POETRY. 715 

Come home, 
We've nursed for thee the sunny buils of spring, 

Watch'ii every germ the fiill-l>lo\vii flowers rear, 
Seen o'er their liloora the chilly winter l)ring 
Its icy garlands, and thou art not here ; 
Brother, come home. 

Come home. 
Would I could scud my spirit o'er the deep. 

Would I could wing it like a bird to thee — 
To commune with thy thoughts, to fill thy sleep 
With these unwearing words of melody; 
Brother, come home. 



THE GLADNESS OF NATURE. 

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, 

When our mother Nature laughs around ; 

When even the deep blue heavens look glad. 

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground ? 

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, 
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky ; 

The ground'-squirrel gayly chirps by his den, 
And the wilding boo hums merrily by. 

The clouds are at play in the azure space. 

And their shadows at play on the bright green vale, 

And here they stretch to tlic frolic chase. 
And here they roll on the easy gale. 

There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower. 
There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree. 

There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, 
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 

And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles 
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray. 

On the leaping waters and gay young isles ; 
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away. 



ROOM, BOYS, ROOM. 

CnAKLES PENNO HOFFMAN. 

Born in the City of New York in IPOO. 

There was an old hunter encamped down by the rill 
Who fished in this water, and shot on that hill. 
The forest for him had no danger nor gloom, 
For all that he wanted was plenty of room ! 
Says he," The world's wide, there is room for ns al 
Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the liall. 
Room, boys, room, by the light of the moon. 
For why "shouldn't every man dnjoy his own room ' 



716 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

lie wove liis own nets, and his shanty was spread 
With the skins he had dressed and stretclied out overhead ; 
Fresh branches of liemlock made fragrant the floor, 
For his bed, as he sung when the daylight was o'er, 
" The world's wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
Room enough in the greenwood, if not iu the hall. 
Room, boys, room," etc. 

That spring now half choked by the dust of the road, 
Under boughs of old maples once limpidly flowed ; 
By the rock whence it bubbles his kettle was hung. 
Which their sap often filled while the hunter he sung, 
" The world's wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the hall. 
Room, boj's, room," etc. 

And still sung the hunter — when one gloomy day, 
He saw in the forest what saddened his lay — 
A heavy wheeled wagon its black rut had made. 
Where fair grew the greensward in broad forest glade — 
" The world's wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the hall. 
Room, buys, room," etc. 

He whistled to his dog, and says he, " We can't stay ; 
I must shoulder my rifle, up traps, and away ;" 
Nest day, 'mid those maples the settler's ax rung. 
While slowly the hunter trudged oif as ho sung, 
" The world's wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
Room enough iu the greenwood, if not iu the haU. 
Room, boys, room," etc. 



INDIAN DEATH-SONG. 

PniLIF FBEXEAU. 

Born ia New York in 1752, and educated at I'l'Incetun— Died in 1832— He was tlie mcisl 
noted of the song-writers of tho licvolution. 

The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day, 
But glory remains when their lights fade away. 
Begin, ye tormentors ! your threats are iu vain. 
For the sou of Alknomock can never complain. 

Remember the woods where in ambush he lay, 
And the scalps which he bore from your nation away. 
Why do ye delay ? 'till I shrink from my pain ? 
Know the sou of Alknomock can never complain. 

Remember the arrows he shot from his bow ; 
Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low. 
The flame rises high — you exult in mj' pain ! 
But the son of Alknomock will never complain. 

I go to the land where my father has gone; 

His ghost shall exult in the fame of his son. 

Death conies like a friend ; he relieves me from pain, 

And thy sou, oh Alknomock ! has scorned to complain. 



SELECT AMERICAN POETHY. 7^7 

THE RAVEN. 

EDOAB ALLAN FOE. 

Born in Baltimore, or vicinity, in 1811— Died in 1849. 

Ouce upon a midnight drnary, while I ponder'd weak and weary, 
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, 

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my charaljer door. 
"'Tis some visiter," I mntter'd, tapping at my chamber door — 
Onl}' this, and nothing more." 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, 

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. 

Eagerly I wished the morrow — vaiidy I had sought to borrow 
Prom m}' books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore — 
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore — 
Nameless here for evermore. 

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain 
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; 

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating 
"'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door — 
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door — 
This it is, and nothing more." 

Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer, 
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore : 

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping. 
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, 
That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door — 
Darkness there, and nothing more. 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing. 
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; 

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token. 

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, " Lenore !' 
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, " Lonore !" 
Merely this, and nothing more. 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning. 
Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before. 

"Surely," said I, '' surely that is something at my window lattice ; 
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this myster\' explore — 
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore — 
'Tis the wind and nothing more !" 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter. 
In there stejipcd a stately raven of the saintly days of yore ; 

Not the least obeisance made he ; not an instant stopped or stayed he ; 
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — 
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — 
Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, 

" Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, 
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wanderitjg from the Nightly shore — 
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" 
Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." 



718 SELECT AMERICAN POETRr. 

Much I marveled this uii;;aiiily fowl to hear discourse so plainly 
Thoui^h its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; 

For wo cannot help agreeing tliat no living human being 

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — 
Bird or beast upon tlie sculptured bust above his chamber door, 
With such a name as "Nevermore." 

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only 
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. 

Nothing further then he uttered — not a feather then he fluttered — 

'i'ill I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have llown before — 
On the morrow hb will leave me, as my hopes have down before." 
Then the bird said "Nevermore." 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 

"Doubtless," said I, " what it utters is its only stock and store 

Caught from some unhai^py master whom urunerciful Disaster 

Followed fast anil followed faster till his songs one burden bore — 
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore 
Of ' Never — nevermore.' " 

But the raven still beguiling all m}' sad soul into smiling, 

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door • 

Then, upon tlie velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking 
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore — 
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore 
Meant iu croaking "Nevermore." 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing 

To the fowl whose liery eyes now burned into my bosom's core : 

This and more I sat divining, with ray liead at ease reclining 
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lampliglit gloated o'er. 
But whose velvet violet hning with the lamplight gloatijig o'er, 
She shall press, ah, nevermore ! 

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer 

Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted door. 
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angehi he hatk seut 
thee 
Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore ! 
Quaff, oh quaff, this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore 1" 
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." 

"Prophet!" said I, " thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil — 
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed tlioe here ;ishore, 

Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted — 
On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, 1 implore — 
Is there — is there balm in Gilead ? — tell me — tell me, I implore !" 
Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." 

"Prophet !" said I, " thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil ! 
By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God wo both adore — 

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, 
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore — 
Chusp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." 
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." 

" Be that word our sign of p.arting, bird or fiend 1" I shrieked, upstarting — 

" Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutoi:ian shore I 
Leave no black plume as a tokeu of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! 



SELECT AMEllICAN rOETRY. 719 

I,cayc my loneliness unbroken !-quit the bust above my door ! 
Ta^e th/beak from out my heart, mkI take thy form from off my door 1" 
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." 

And the raven, never flittin-, still is sitting, still is sitting 
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door ; _ 

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, 

And thflamplight o'or him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating ou the floor 
Shall be lifted— nevermore I 



PAPER. 



BEN.TAMIN I-UANKLIN. 

Born in 1700— Died in 1790. 

Some wit of old— such wits of old there were— 
Whose hints showed meaning, whose allusions care 
By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, 
Called clear blank paper every infant mind, 
Where still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, 
Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. 

The thought was happy, pertinent and true ; 
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. 

1 can you pardon my presumption ? — I, 

No wit, no genius, yet for once will try. 

Various the papers various wants produce — 
The wants of fashion, elegance, and use ; 
Men are as various ; and, if right I scan. 
Each sort of paper represents some man. 

Pray, note the fop— half powder and half lace- 
Nice as a bandbox were his dwelling place ; 
lie's the GILT PAPER which apart you store, 
And lock from vulgar hands in the scmtoirc. 

Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth. 
Are COPT paper, of inferior worth ; 
Less prized, more useful, for your desk decreed, 
Free to all pens, and prompt at every need. 

The wretch whom avarice bids to pinch and spare, 
Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir. 
Is coarse brown paper ; such as pedlers choose 
To wrap up wares, which better men will use. 

Take next the miser's contrast, who destroys 
Health, fame and fortune, in a round of joys. 
Will any paper match hirn ? Yes, throughout, 
He's a true sinking paper, past all doubt. 

The retail politician's anxious thought 
Deems this side always right, and that stark naught; 
He foams with censure— with applause he raves— 
A dupe to rumors, and a tool of knaves : 
He'll want no tvpe his weakness to proclaim. 
While such a thing as pools-cap has a name. 
45 



720 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

The hasty gentleman whose blood runs high, 
Who picks a quarrel, if j'ou step awry, 
Who can't a jest, or hint, or look endure : 
What is he ? What ? touch paper to be sure. 

What are the poets, take them as they fall, 
Cood, bad, rich, jioor, much read, not read at all ? 
Them and their works in the same class you'll find ; 
They are the mere waste paper of mankind. 

Observe the maiden, innooentlj' sweet, 
She 's fair white paper, an unsullied sheet; 
On which the happj' man, whom fate ordains, 
May write his name, and take her for his pains. 

One instance more, and only one, I'll bring ; 
'Tis the great man-, who scorns a little thing — 
Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his own, 
Formed on the feelings of his heart alone : 
True, genuine royal paper is his breast ; 
Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best. 



"WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER'S" 

KET. GEO. W. DOANE. 

Born in 1799 at Trenton — Bishop of the Diocese of New Jersey. 

What is that. Mother ? — The lark, my child ! — 
The morn has but just look'd out, and smiled. 
When he starts from his liumble grassy nest, 
Aud is up and away, with the dew on his breast. 
And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere, 
To warble it out in his Maker's ear. 

Ever, my child, be thy morn's fiist lays 
Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise 

What is that. Mother ? — The dove my son ! — 
And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan, 
Is flowing out from her gentle breast, 
Constant and pure, by that lonely nest. 
As the wave is pour'd from some crystal urn, 
For her distant dear one's quick return : 
Ever, my son, be thou like the dove, 
In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. 

What is that, Mother ? — The eagle, boy ! — 
Proudly careering his course of joy ; 
Firm, on his own mountain vigor relying, 
Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying. 
His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun, 
He swerves not a hair, but bears onward, right on. 
Boy, may the eagle's flight ever be thine, 
Onward, and upward, and true to the line. 

What is that. Mother ? — The swan, my love ! — 
He is floating down from his native grove, 
No loved one now, no nestling nigh. 
He is floating down by himself to die ; 



SELECT AMERICAK POETRY. 721 

# 

Death darkens his eye, iiml iinphmies his wings, 

Yet his sweetest song is the last he sings. 

Live so, my love, that when death shall come, 
Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home. 



THE FROST. 



MISS HANNAH FLAGG GOULD. 

Born in Lancaster, Vermont — First appeared as an authoress in lfi32 

The Frost looked forth one still clear night, 
And whispered, "now I shall be out of sight. 
So through the valley and over the height. 

In silence I'll take my way. 
I will not go on like that blustering train. 
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain. 
Who make .so much bustle and noise in vain, 
But I'll be as busy as they !" 

Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest 
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he drest 
In diamond beads — and over the breast 

Of the quivering lake, he spread 
A coat of mail, that it need not fear 
The downward point of many a spear. 
That he hung on its margin, far and near. 

Where a rock could rear its head. 

He went to the windows of those who slept, 
And over each pane, like a fairy, crept : 
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped. 

By the light of the morn were seen 
Most beautiful things ; there were flowers and trees. 
There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees ; 
There were cities with temples and towers; and these 

All pictured in silver sheen ! 

But he did one thing that was hardly fair — 
He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there 
That all had forgotten for him to prepare, 

'■Now, just to set them a-thinking, 
I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he, 
"This costly pitcher I'll burst in three ; 
And the glass of water they've left for mo 

Shall 'tchick !' to tell them I'm drinking 1" 



CONSOLATION OF RKLIGTO.N' TO THE POOR. 

JVS. (i. PEKCIVAL. 

There is a mourner, and her heart is broken ; 
She is a widow ; she is old and poor: 
Her only hope is in the sacred token 
Of peaceful happiness when life is o'er. 
She .asks not wealth nor pleasure, begs no more 



722 SELECT AMERICAN TOETRY. 

Than Heaven's delightful volume, and the sijjht 

Of her Redeemer. Skeptics, would you pour 

Your blasting vials on her head and blight 

Sharon's sweet rose, that blooms and charms her being's night ? 

She lives in her affections ; for the grave 
Has clos'd upon her husband, children ; all 
Her hopes are with the arm she trusts will save 
Her treasur'd jewels ; though her views are small, 
Though she has never mounted high to fall 
* And writhe in her debasement, j-et the spring 

Of her meek, tender feelings, cannot pall 
Upon her unperverted palate, but will bring 
A joy without regret, a bliss that has no sting. 

Even as a fountain, whose unsullied wave 
Wells in the pathless valley, flowing o'er 
With silent waters, kissing as they lave 
The pebbles with light rippling, and the shore 
Of matted grass and flowers ; so softly pour 
The breathings of her bosom, when she prays, 
Low-bow'd before her Maker ; then, no more 
She muses on the griefs of former days ; 
Her full heart melts and flows in Heaven's dissolving raysw 

And faith can see a new world, and the eyes 
Of saints look pity on her. Death will come ; 
A few short moments over, and the prize 
Of peace eternal waits her, and the tomb 
Becomes her fondest pillow : all its gloom 
Is scatter'd. What a meeting there will be 
To her and all she lov'd while here I and the bloom 
Of new life from those cheeks shall never flee — 
There is the health which lasts through all eternity. 



ABSAXOM. 



NATHANIEL P. WILLIS. 

Born in 1807 in Portland, Maine. 

The waters slept. Night's silvery vail hung low 
On Jordan's bosom, and the eddies curl'd 
Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still, 
Unbroken beating of the sleeper's pulse. 
The reeds bent down the stream ; the willow leavea, 
With a soft cheek upon tho lulling tide. 
Forgot the lifting winds ; and the long stems, 
Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse, 
Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way. 
And lean'd, in graceful attitudes, to rest. 
How strikingly the course of nature tells, 
By its light heed of human sufi'ering. 
That it was fashion'd for a happier world ' 

King David's limbs were weary. 
He had fled from far Jerusalem ; and now he stood 
AVith his faint people, for a little rest, 
Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind 



40 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 72a 

Of morn was sUmn<;, ami he bared }iis brow 

To its refreshing breath ; for he had worn 

The mourner's covering, and he had not felt 

That he could see his people iintil now. 

They gathered round him on the fresh green bank, 

And spoke their kindly words ; and as the sun 

Rose up in heaven, ho knelt among them there, 

And bow'd his head upon his hands to pray. 

! when the heart is full — when bitter thoughts 

Come crowding thickly up for utterance, 

And the poor common words of courtesy 

Are such an empty mockery — how much 

The bursting heart may pour itself in pr.ayer ! 

He pr.ay'd for Israel — and his voice went up 

Strongly and fervently. He pray'd for those 

Whose love had been his shield — and his deep tones 

Grew tremulous. But oh ! for Absalom — 

For his estranged, misguided Absalom — 

The proud, bright being, who had burst away 

In all his princely beauty, to defy 

The heart that cherish'd him — for him ho pour'd. 

In agony that would not be controll'd. 

Strong supplication, and forgave him there. 

Before his God, for his deep sinfulness. 

The pall was settled. He who slept beneath 
Was straighten'd for the grave ; and as the folds 
Sunk to the still proportions, they betray'd 
The matchless symmetry of Absalom. 
His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls 
Were floating round the tassels as they sway'd 
To the admitted air, as glossy now 
As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing 
The snowy fingers of Judea's daughters. 
His helm was at his feet ; his banner, soil'd 
With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid. 
Reversed, beside him ; and the jewel'd hilt. 
Whose diamonds lit the jiassago of his blade, 
Rested, like mockery, on his cover'd brow. 
The soldiers of the king trod to and fro, 
Clad in the garb of battle ; and their chief. 
The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier, 
And ga7:cd upon the dark pall sleadfa-stly. 
As if he fear'd the slumberer might stir. 
A slow step startled him. He grasp'd his blado 
As if a trumpet rang ; but the bent form 
Of David enter'd, and he gave command. 
In a low tone, to his few followers, 
And left him with his dead. The king stood still 
Till the last echo died ; then, throwing off 
The sackcloth from his brow, and Laying back 
The pall from the still features of his child, 
He bow'd his head u])on him, and broke forth 
In the resistless eloquence of wo : 

"Alas ! my noble boy ! that thou ."^houldst die '. 

Thou, who wort made so beautifully fair! 
That death should settle in thy glorious eye, 



72-i SELECT AMERICAN POETRY 

And leave his stillness in this clustering hair . 
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb! 
My proud boy, Absalom ! 

Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill. 
As to my bosom, I have tried to press thee ! 

How was I wont to feel thy pulses thrill, 

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to co.ress thee. 

And hear thy sweet ' My Father !' from these dumb 

And cold lips, Absalom ! 

But death is on thee. I shall hear the gush 
Of music, and the voices of the young ; 

And life will pass me in the mantling blush, 
And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung; 

But thou no more, with thy sweet voice shalt come 

To meet me, Absalom ! 

And oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart, 
Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, 

How will its love for thee, as I depart. 

Yearn for thy ear to dnnk its last deep token ! 

It were so sweet amid death's gathering gloom, 

To see thee, Absalom ! 

And now, farewell ! 'Tis hard to give thee up. 
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee ; 

And thy dark sin ! — ! I could drink the cup. 
If from this wo its bitterness had won thee. 

May God have call'd thee, like a wanderer, home, 

My lost boy, Absalom !" 

He cover'd up his face and bow'd himself 
A moment on his child : then, giving him 
A look of melting tenderness, he clasp'd 
His hands convulsively, as if in prayer ; 
And, as if his strength were given him of God, 
He rose up calmly, and composed the pall 
Firmly and decently — and left him there — 
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep 



THE WEST. 

GEO. P. M0KEI9. 



Ho ! brothers — come hither and list to my story — 

Merry and brief will the narrative be: 
Hero, like a monarch, I reign in my glory — 

Master am I, boys, of all that I see. 
Where once frown'd a forest a garden is smiling — 

The meadow and moorland are marshes no more ; 
And there curls the smoke of my cottage, beguiling 

The children who cluster like grapes at the door, 
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest; 
The land of the heart is the land of the West. 
Oho boys ! — oho, boys ! — oho ! 



SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 725 

Talk not of the town, boys — give me the broad prairie, 

Where man like the wind roams impulsive and fiee; 
Behold how its beautiful colors all vary, 

Like those of the clouds, or the deep-rolling sea. 
A life in the woods, boys, is even as changins; ; 

With proud independence we season our cheer, 
And those who the world are for happiness ranging, 

Won't find it at all, if they don-t find it here. 
Then enter, boys ; cheerly, boys, enter and rest ; 
I'll show you the life, boys, we live in the West. 
Oho, boys ! — oho, boys ! — oho ! 

Here, brothers, secure from all turmoil and danger, 

We reap what we sow, for the soil is our own ; 
We spread hospitality's board for the stranger. 

And care not a fig for the king on his throne ; 
We never know want, for we live by our labor, 

And in it contentment and happiness find ; 
We do what we can for a friend or a neighbor. 

And die, boys, in peace and good-will to mankind. 
Then enter, boys ; cheerly, boys, enter and rest ; 
You know how we live, and die in the West! 
Oho, boys ! — oho, boys ! — oho ! 



FOREST HYMN. 

WILIJAM CCI.LEN' BRYANT. 

The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learn'd 

To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave. 

And spread the roof above them — ere he framed 

The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 

The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, 

Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down. 

And offer'd to the Mightiest solemn thanks, 

And supplication. For his simple heart 

Might not resist the sacred influences. 

Which, from the stilly twilight of the place. 

And from the gray old trunks, that high in heaven 

Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 

Of the invisible breath, that sway'd at once 

All their green tops, stole over him, and bow'd 

His spirit with the thought of boundless power, 

And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why 

Should we, i.i the worii's riper yjars oegle^t 

GoD'9 ancient sanctuaries, and adore 

Only among the crowd, and under roofs 

That our frail hands have raised ! Let mo, at least, 

Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 

Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find 

Acceptance in his ear. 

Father, thy hand 
Hath rear'd these venerable columns, thou 
Didst weave this verdant roof. Tliou didst look down 
Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, 



726 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 

And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow. 

Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 

Among their branches ; till, at last, they stood, 

As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark. 

Fit shrine for humble worshiper to hold 

Communion with his Maker. These dim vaults. 

These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 

Report not. No fantastic carvings show, 

The bo.ast of our vain race, to change the form 

Of thy fair works. But thou art here — thou fiU'st 

The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds. 

That run along the summit of these trees 

In music ; — thou art in the cooler breath, 

That, from the inmost darkness of the place. 

Comes, scarcely felt ; — the barky trunks, the ground. 

The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with thee. 

Here is continual worship; — nature, here, 

In the tranquillity that thou dost love. 

Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly around, 

From perch to perch, the solitary bird 

Passes ; and yon clear spring, that midst its herbs, 

Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots 

Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 

Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left 

Thyself without a witness, in these shades. 

Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, 

Are hero to speak of thee. This mighty oak, 

By whose immovable stem I stand, and seem 

Almost annihilated, — not a prince. 

In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 

E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 

Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 

Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 

Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 

Of the broad sun. That delicate forest fiower, 

With delicate breath, and look so like a smile, 

Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mold. 

An emanation of the indwelling Life, 

A visible token of the upholding Love, 

That are the soul of this wide universe. 

My heart is awed within me, when I think 
Of the great miracle that still goes on 
In silence, round me — the perpetual work 
Of thy creation, finish'd, yet renew'd 
Forever. Written on thy works, I read 
The lesson of thy own eternity. 
Lo ! all grow old and die — but see, again, 
How on the faltering footsteps of decay 
Youth jiresses — ever gay and beautiful youth, 
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
Wave not less proudly that their ancestors 
Molder beneath them. 0, there is not lost 
One of earth's chai'ms : upon her bosom yet. 
After the flight of untold centuries. 
The freshness of her fair beginning lies, 
And vet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate 



SELECT AMEEICAN POETRY. 727 

Of his arch-enemy, Death — yea, seats himself 
Upon the tyrant's throne — the sepulcher, 
And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe 
Makes his own tiourishment. For he came forth 
From thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 

There have been holy men who hid themselves 
Deep in the woody wilderness, and a;ave 
Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived 
The generation born with them, nor seemed 
Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
Around them ; — and there have been holy men 
Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. 
But let mo often to these solitudes 
Retire, and in thy presence rea.'isuro 
My feeble virtue. Here its enemies, 
The passions, at thy plainer footsteps shrink 
And tremble and are still. God ! when thou 
Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire 
The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, 
With all the waters of the firmament, 
The swift dark whirlwind that nproots the woods 
And drowns the villages ; when, at thy call, 
Uprises the great deep and throws himself 
Upon the continent,- and overwhelms 
Its cities — who forgets not, at the sight 
Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, 
His pride, and la3;s his strifes and follies by ? 
O, from these sterner aspects of thy face 
Spare me and mine, nor let us need the wrath 
Of the mad unchained elements to te.ich 
Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, 
And to the beautiful order of thy works 
Learn to conform the order of our lives. 



THE AMERICAN HERO. 



NATHAKIEL NII.E3. 



k eapphic 5(le, written in 1~5, at Noririch, Conn. It was one of the most popular prodms 
.ions of Iho war, and was sung by our forefathers with patriotic fervor. 

Why should vain mortals tremble at the .sight of 
Death and destruction in the fiedd of battle. 
Where blood and carnage clothe the ground in crircson, 
Sounding with death-groans ? 

Death will invade us by the means appointed. 
And we must all bow to the king of terrors ; 
Nor am I anxious, if I am prepared, 
What shape he comes in. 

Infinite Goodness teaches us submission. 
Bids us be quiet under all our dealings ; 
Never repining, but forever praising 
God, our Creator. 



728 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 

Well may we praise liim ! all his ways are perfect 
Though a reaplendence, infinitely glowing, 
Dazzles in glory on the sight of mortals, 
Struck blind by luster. 

Good is Jehovah in bestowing sunshine, 
Nor less his goodness in the storm and thunder, 
Mercies and judgment both proceed from kindness, 
Infinite kindness. 

0, then, exult that God forever reigneth ; 
Clouds which, around him, hinder our perception. 
Bind us the stronger to exalt his name, and 
Shout louder praises. 

Then to the wisdom of my Lord and Master, 
I will commit all I have or wish for, 
Sweetly as babes' sleep will I give my life up, 
VVhen call'd to yield it. 

Now, Mars, I dare thee, clad in smoky pillars, 
Bursting from bomb-shells, roaring from the cannon, 
Rattling in grape-shot like a storm of hailstones. 
Torturing ether. 

Up the bleak heavens let the spreading flames rise. 
Breaking, like iEtna, through the smoky columns, 
Lowering, like Egypt, o'er the falling city. 
Wantonly buru'd down.* 

While all their hearts quick palpitate for havoc, 
Let slip your blood-hounds, nara'd tho British lions ; 
Dauntless as death stares, nimble as the whirlwind. 
Dreadful as demons ! 

Let oceans waft on all your floating castles. 
Fraught with destruction, horrible to nature ; 
Then, with your sails fill'd by a storm of vengeance, 
Bear down to battle. 

From the dire caverns, made by ghostly miners, 
Let the explosion, dreadful as volcanoes, 
Heave the broad town, with all its wealth and people, 
Quick to destruction. 

Still shall the banner of the King of Heaven 
Never advance where I am afraid to follow ; 
While that precedes me, with an open bosom, 
War, I defy thee. 

Fame and dear freedom lure me on to battle. 
While a fell despot, grimmer than a death's-head. 
Stings me with serpents, fiercer than Medusa's, 
To the encounter. 

Life, for my country and the cause of freedom, 
Is but a trifle for a worm to part with ; 
And, if preserved in so great a contest, 
Life is redoubled. 



* Charlestown, near Boston. 



SELECT AMEIUCAN POETRY. 729 

LOSING AIX— THE RUINED MERCHANT. 

CORA M. EAOEK. 

Written for this work by request of the publisher, from an incidunt related in tho 

Child's Paper. 

A cottage home with sloping lawn o,nd trellis'd vines and flowers, 
And little feet to chase away the rosy-finjrer'd hours, 
A fair young face to part, at eve, the shadows in tho door — 
I picture thus a home I knew in happy days of yore. 

Says one, a cherub thing of three, with childish heart elate, 
" Papa is turn' in, let nie do to meet 'im at te date !" 
Another takes the music up and flings it on the air, 
" Papa has come — but why so slow his footstep on the stair ?' 

"0 Father ! did you bring the books I've waited for so long — 
The baby's rocking-horse and drum, and mother's ' angel song ?* 
And did you see — " but something holds the questioning lips apart, 
And something settles very still upon that joyous heart. 

The quick-discerning wife bends down, with her white hand to stay 
The clouds from tangling with the curls that on his forehead lay ; 
To ask, in gentle tones " Belov'd, by what rude tempest toss'd ?" 
And list the hollow, " Beggar'd, lost — all ruin'd, poor and lost '." 

" Nay, say not so, for I am here to share misfortime's hour. 
And prove how better far than gold is love's unfailing dower. 
Let wealth 'take wings and fly away,' as far as wings can soar, 
The bird of love will hover near and only sing the more." 

"All lost, pjapa? wh)', here am I ; and, father, see how tall, 
I measure fully three feet four upon the kitchen wall ! 
I'll tend the flowers, feed the birds, and have such lots of fun — 
I'm big enough to work, papa, for I'm the oldest son." 

"And 1, papa, am almost five," says curly-headed Rose, 
And I can learn to sew, papa, and nuike all dolly's clothes ! 
But what is ' poor ' — to stay at home, and have no place to go 7 
then, I'll ask the Lord to-night to make us always so." 

" I'se here, papa — I is n't lost !" and on his father's knee 
He lays his sunny head to I'est, that baby-boy of three. 
"And if we get too poor to live," says little Rose, "you know. 
There is a better place, papa, a heav'n where we can go." 

"And God will come and take us there, dear father, if we pray — 
We needn't fear the road, papa, lie surely knows the way." 
Then from the corner, staff in hand, the grandma rises slow. 
Her snowy cap-strings in tho breeze soft-flult'ring to and fro. 

Totters across tho parlor floor, by aid of kindly iiands, 
Counting, in every little face, her life's declining sand-s 
Reaches his side, and whibj)ers low, " God's promises are sure— 
For every grievous wound, my son, IJe sends a ready cure." 

The father clasps her hand in his, and quickly turns aside, 
The heaving chest, the rising sigh, liie coming tear to hide, 
Folds to his heart those loving ones, and kisses o'er and o'er 
That noble wife whose faithful heart he little knew before. 



730 SELECT AMEUrCAN POETRY. 

"May God fori;ive me! what is wealth tn these more precious things. 
Whose rich affection round my heart a ceaseless odor flings ? 
I think he knew ray sordid soul was getting proud and cold, 
And thus to save me, gave me these, and took away my gold. 

Dear ones, forgive me, nevermore will I forget the rod 
That brought me safely unto you, and led rae back to God. 
I am not poor while these bright links of priceless love remain, 
A.ud, .Heaven helping, nevermore shall blindness hide the chain!" 



LEXINGTON. 

O. W. HOLMES. 

Slowly the mist o'er the meadow was creeping. 

Bright on the dewy buds glisten'd the sun, 
When from his couch — while his children were sleeping- 
Rose the bold rebel and shoulder'd his gun. 

Waving her golden vail 

Over the silent dale, 
Blithe look'd the morning on cottage and spire ; 

Hush'd was his parting sigh, 

While from his noble eye 
Flash'd the last sparkle of Liberty's fire. 

On the smooth green where the fresh leaf is springing, 

Calmly the first-born of glory have met : 
Hark! the death-volley around them is ringing — 
Look ! with their life-blood the youug grass is wet. 

Faint is the feeble breath, 

Murmuring low in death — 
" Tell to o\ir sons how their fathers have died ;" 

Nerveless the iron hand, 

Raised for its native land. 
Lies by the weapon that gleams at its side. 

Over the hillsides the wild knell is tolling. 

From their far hamlets the yeomanry come ; 
As thro' the storm-clouds the thunder-burst rolling, 
Circles the beat of the mustering drum. 

Fast on the soldier's path 

Darken the waves of wrath ; 
Long have they galherd, and loud shall they fall : 

Red glares the musket's Hash, 

Sharp rings the rifle's crash, 
Blazing .and clanging from thicket and wall. 

Gayly the plume of the horseman was dancing, 

Kever to shadow his cold brow again ; 
Pi'oudly at morning the war steed was prancing. 
Reeking and panting he droops on the rein ; 

Pale is the lip of scorn. 

Voiceless the trumpet-horn 
Torn is the silken-lring'd red cro.ss on high ; 

Many a lielted breast 

Low on the turf shall rest, 
Ere the dark hunters the herd have pass'd by. 



SELECT AMERICAX TOETRY. 731 

Snow-sirdlod cra^s where the coarse wind is raving, 

Rocks where the weary floods murmur and waM, 
WiUls where the fern by" the furrow is waving, 
Reel'd with the echoes that rode on the sjalo ; 
Far as the tempest thrills 
Over the darken'd hills, 
Far as the sunshine streams over the plain. 
Roused by the tyrant band. 
Woke alfthe mighty land. 
Girded for battle from mountain to main. 

Green be the graves where her martyrs are lying! 

Shroudless and tombless thoy sunk to their rest; 
While o'er their ashes the starry fold flying, 

Wraps the proud eagle they roused from his nest. 

Borne on her northern pine, 

Long o'er the foaming brine 
Spread her "broad banner to storm and to sun; 

Heaven keep her ever free 

Wide as o'er land and sea 
Floats the fair emblem her heroes have won! 



ONE HOUR WITH THEE. 

STEPHEN GKIFFITH OASSAWAT. 

•ver which he had once officiated as the pastor. 

One hour with thee, ray God, when daylight breaks 
Over a world thy guardian care hath kept. 

When the fresh soul from soothing slumber wakes. 
To praise the love that watched me while I slept; 

When with new strength my blood is bounding free, 

The first, best, sweetest hour, I'll give to thee. 

One hour with thee, when busy day begins 
Her never-ceasing ro\md of bustling care. 

When I must meet with toil, and jiain and sins, 
And through them all, thy cross again must bear ; 

O thoTi, to arm me for the strife, to be 

Faithful to death, I'll kneel an hour to thee. 

One hour with thee, when rides the glorious sun 
Hi^h in mid-heaven, and panting nature feels 

Lifeless and overpowered, and man has done 

For one short hour, with urging life's svv:ft wheels; 

In that deep pause my soul from care shall flee, 

To make that hour of rest, one hour with thee. 

One hour with thee, when saddened twilight flings 
Her sootliins; charm o'er lawn, and vale, and grove; 

When there breathes up from all created thuigs. 
The sweet enthralling sense of thy deep lovo ; 



SELECT AMERICAK POETEY. 
My swelling heart shall spend an hour with thee. 

""ctrtrhiiTt^^en^Sh-^r ^°"'^ "•■^"^' 

When thy sweel sta^runutt^ibT Z" lU^^ '"'^ ^'°'^' 

OU;eVw;in'^'^";''>-^'P^'>=-'°-<="Wow; 

-'s;U-^----^.-.^^^M«ee. 



ir IS GREAT FOR OUR COUNTRY TO DIE. 

JAMES a. PERCITAL. 

""Bl^tT^tL'wrrthToTr f:F^^" ^•-'"'^■^ ^- -°'-<i-g: 

C^oa loves the young, who ascend pure from the funeral pile 
Long thev our slitn^s «I,oH „. ■ ^ "°"' '" ^^^ ear : 



THE END. 



DESCRIPTION 



PUBLICATIONS 



GEO. F. TUTTLE. 



THESE BOOKS ARE AVRITTEN FOR THE USE OF FAMILIES- 
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1 



GEORGE F. TUTTLE b PaBUCATlONS. 



THE 

TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES 

OF 

Celebrated Travelers, 

IN TUB 

Principal Countries of tlie Globe. 

WITH 

ELEGANT COLORED ENaRAVINGS. 

BY 

HENllY HOWE, 

AUTHOR OP "HISTORICAL COUECTIOXS OF TIRGINIA," OP "OHIO," AND 
"THE GREAT WEST." 

This work comprises some twenty-seven interesting narratives. It opens with 
the •' Perilous Juurney of Three Americans in. Koordistan," describing tlieir captivity 
and final release from the Wild Tribes of that region. Tliis is followed by " .-l Sum- 
mer in Scotland," being tlje experience of an American in the land of Wallace and 
of Bruce, of Romance and of Song. Then comes " Cuclu-ane's Journetj Ihrout/h Russia 
and Siberia" during which the traveler passed over thirtj' thousand miles, mostly 
on foot, encountering great hardships in tho.se de.spotic lands. " The Adventures of 
Mumio Park, and others, in Africa," succeed.?, after which the reader is introduced 
to the " Wanderings of a Young American in Gernumy" wlio traveled, on foot, througli 
Prussia and Austria, and witnessed the every-day life of tlieir people. " Forbes' 
Five Yean in China." in its turn, tells us how those curious people live who grow 
our tea. Then we have " LijncKs Expedition to the Dead Sen" " Observations in Aor- 
KOT/ and S'veden" " Fisk's Travels in Jtali/" " An American in France." and " Cuha and 
Iter People." In "Bryant's Overland Journei/ to California " are experiences similar 
to those many of our friends have met witli ; and in " A New Englander in Old 
England." an intelligent, inquisitive Tankee sees and relates some most interesting 
things of the land of his fathers. Next, '• Golowiu's Captivity in Japan" opens up 
to us that mysterious country and the adventures of tlio traveler and liis compan- 
ions while imprisoned in Bamboo cages by the jealous Japanese. " Scenes and Ex- 
cursions in Suilserland" the land of William Tell, of ever snow-capped mountains 
and glaciers, is followed by " Adventures and Discoveries in the Polar Region.':," in- 
cluding those of the late .-Vmerican Expedition. Then we have '■ Spcnrer's Travels 
in Hungnrtj" " JVilkes' Exploring Expedition to the Pacific." '■ .-1 Few Days in 
Poland." " Bartlelt's (llimpses of E<j!ipt" "A Tour ia Ireland." "A Sojourn among 
the Turh," " Life in India," " Australia, the Lnrvd of Oold," " The Rained Cities of 
CenXrnl America," "Letlyard's Explorations in Babylon and Nineveh," ■' The Ajneriean 
Expedition to Japan," " The Crimea and the War there," eJc, — all of whicli are articles 
full of valuable and most entertaining information. 

Indeed no kind of reading is more interesting than the travels in far distant lands 
of intelligent men, wlio unite a description of new and wonderful scenes, and of the 
habits and manners of strange nations, with personal adventures, often amusing, 
sometimes wild and terrible, and always entertaining. When such travels are pub- 
lished, the reader enjoys all the excitement of romance, at the same time that he is 
storing liis mind witli substantial knowledge of permanent value. 

This work lias been gotten up at an expense of several tliousand dollars, Is com- 
posed of over Eight Hundred very large and densely-filled pages, and is illustrated 
by beautiful engravings ; the aim. regardless of first cost, ijeing to render it, in all 
respects, a desirable companion for every intelligent family. 



GEORGE F. TUTTLES PUBUCATIOKS. 



THE 

GM1EA.T T\^E©T, 

OOXTAINING 

Narratives of the most Important and Interesting Inci- 
dents in "Western History, Interspersed with Re- 
markable Individual Adventures; Sketches 
of Frontier Life : Description of 
Natural Curiosities, etc. 

TO WHICH IS APPENDED 

HISTORICAL & DESOHIPTIVE SKETCHES, 

Oregon, New Mexico, Utah, Texas, Minnesota, Cali- 
fornia, Nebraska, Washington, Kansas, etc. 



BY HENKY HOWE. 



TaE first twenty pages are devoteii to a Sketch, brought down to the present 
day, giving the great landmarks of Western History. Then succeed a large variety 
of "subjects, among wliich are the following, viz : Discoveries of the Adventurers 
who first Kxplorcd the Western Wilderness ; the Trials and SulTcringa of the Early 
French Missionaries, who, nearly Two Hundred Years since, penetrated the For- 
ests of the Great West ; the Early Settlements : Manners and Customs of the First 
(Settlors ; tlie Fortitude, the Ferils and the Bravery of the I'ioneers ; the Wars 
with the Savages ; the lutrigues of the Spaniards and the French to dismember the 
West ; Burr's Con.spiracy ; Military Ev('nts ; Expeditions of Lewis and Clark, Pike, 
Long, and Fremont ; tlie Fur Traders : the Mormons ; Life among the Trappers 
and Hunters of the Rocky Mountains ; Remarkable Individual Adventures ; Noted 
Natur.al Curiosities; Historical and Descriptive Sketches of New Mexico; Utah, 
the Mormon Settlement ; Oregon, California, Kansas, etc. 

RECOMMENDATIONS. 

It In filled with the mn.-it Interesting niateri.il, ?(i arr.iii!ri»l ns t.) cmhvace the whole ai-ea of his- 
torical Incidents connected with tlie rise and pro-ress of the mlglity Weat.— JJe^o/oKfc (Pa.) 
I>einocrnt. 

The Historical Collections of various States of the Fnion, hy Mr. Howe, have obtained a wiile- 
spread and deserved popularity, and may be found in almost every I'nniily from ono end of the 
conntry to the other. Tliisi is a work of slmlhir ohar.icler, and contains a mass of Intorestlng and 
Important matter relative to our V/cstern c itry.— »V<w Harm ( 'imriei: 

The wonderful i)inorama of incident and evejit in tlie fircat Valley, frntti the first discovery of 
the Mississippi, p.-isses vividly before the eves of tlie nM\a.—Clrij,l,ind Ilei;il I. 

It Is full of inter.'slin:; and instructive history of the trials and advi iiturvs of the early settlers 
of those now beautiful Western States, wliioli' every man ouclit to put into the hands of his 
children, that they may know the price at whleh the early pioneers purclixsod the ticli inheii- 
tance we now cnjov. — 'A(hiiin {MU-h.} Erponitnr. 

We have pretty carefully examined this book, and find It a valuable woik, filled with matters 
of sencral Interest, many of Ihein, thinigh a strict record of fiiets, more t.'ii ilHm.i titan thf mMt 
KUtrtlin'j jnctare o/finvi. It is a work whicli will bo read with great interest by the old and 
yountr. We earnestly recommend it. — lio'f'm O/iff, Brajtr'i. 

It Is a history of tlie Orcat West, In detached a-ticles, and is Just tlie .sort of a work to bo inter- 
eslinc We take irrcat pleasure In commendinj it to the public ij.iiierally, and will close by 
wlshini those en^.-u;e i in the sale of it great succe'.'. " //' l/iit oii:Kl'ti-n</wUI'jo l/u eth yold."— 
Greei'/ietd { 'finn.i Spu. 

Tlie'^Tcat po|)ul;irity of this work Is shown by the almost unprecedented sale, thus far, of over 
ft/jliMl th)m,w/l cniiie-H : and, from the small part of the country as yet caiivaisc^l. and the unox- 
amplcd rapidity with which It Is now selling, It Is expected that Its sale will eventually exceed 
%nv work ever published by subscription. 

;{ 



GEORGE F. TUTXLES PUBLICATIONS. 



LIFE AND DEATH 

ON 



THE OCE^Ivr, 

BEIXG 

A. collection of extraordinary Adventures, 

IN TUE FOR^I OF 

PERSONAL NARRATIVES, 

Ulustrating Life on Board of Merchant Vessels and Ships of War, 
combined ■with Thrilling Relations of Experience and Suffer- 
ing by War, Fire, Famine and ShipTvr^ck. 

BY HENRY HOWE. 

Tlil.'5 large and splendid work comprises a, choice collection of instructive and interesting narra- 
feivcs— in all thirty-two in number. It opens with the Perilous Voyage of Norwood, his Ship- 
wreck and subsequent Adventures amon^ the B.ivn.jies of Virginia in the early settlement of the 
eountry. This is followed by Paddock's Narrative of his Bondage anionij tlie Wild Arabs of the 
Desert; a Sailor's Account of wliat he Saw and Suffered in the American Naval Service in the 
Kevolutionar}' War; Adventures of Selkirk, the orifrinal Robinson Crusoe; Mutiny of the 
Bounty; Sutfevlnga of Donald Campbell, who was wrecked and fell into the hands of tlie cruel 
Ilyder Ali; liow they live in an American Mau of War; the Lost liussian Sailoi-s ; A.'iliton's 
Adventures among Pirates in the West Indies; Adventures of a Slave Trader, with "his Ex- 
perience«, as told by h'luself, in the African Slave Trade ; Convict Life in Australia; NaiTative 
of a Captivity on board tiio old Jersey Prison Ship; Incidents in tho life of a Yankee Sailor, 
with many others. 

It is impns-ihlo to give, tn these few lines, an adequate description of this work, which is luoro 
elegantly and expensively illu'^trated, and combines more instruction with interest, than any 
book of the kind ever issued. A prodiL'ality of expense luis been incurred to make ii every way 
valuable. Over fifteen hundred dollars have been expended in the single department of Illus- 
tration ; several of the engravings cost more than two liundred dollars each. 

That numerous class who are fond of largo and splendid colored engravings, and reading of an 
excitingas well as of an instructive character, will rejoice to possess this attractive volume. In 
anticip.ition of a just remuneration by great sales, the price is placed far b*'low that of other 
works involving sueli an enormous expense as this, which was over three thousand dollars before 
we were ready to contract with the paper-maker, printer and binder to manufacture it. 



ADVINTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 

A SEUiKs OF NAi:i;Arivi:s illltstuating their 
Heroism, Self-Rsliance, G-enius, and Enterprise. 

" Breathes there the man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said— 
This is ray own, mv native lasd I " 

BY HENRY HOWE. 

This work comprises some twenty-three most interesting .articles, varying from twelve t« 
seventy pages each. It opens with the affecting " /I'Mort/ of C<intnin Nntkini ffule, the Ifero' 
Ma-'t f of th? Am'rican iJfjyo^ff/OH. " followed by tho '■' AiMevcmcnt^i of Eirly Arnerican 
Arti4s, West, Stuart and Trumbull." which is full of entertaining and instructive anecdotes. 
Then comes the Narrative of John Henry, of tlie " n'-tr(UhipH (ui'f Srifl-j^inf/s of that liarui of 
JIato'S icho tratp^rsed th^. Wildfirnen^ in tk^- Campaign- arj'iinst Q'icficr, in 1775." Succeeding 
these, are the *' Wi 1 7id er i tit/. f of that Ennii' nl Traveler^ .John Lcdyard. hi iiarioun parts of the 
World .■■" and then we have the " fle-ol- Adr>i>7iturp of Fr;ini'i3 IIugiT, / ) R-"icti.ing Lafat/r^tfe 
^rom aiL A ustria^i DitJiOfori.''^ The " Trinmphs of Eininen-f Aywrl-an. Tyireniora,'''' shows what 
wonders have been performed by i>ur countrymen in the ^^eehanic Arts, in tho inventions of the 
Cotton Gin, Steamboat, Magnetic Telegraph, Reaping and Sewing Machines, etc. The "A''- 
inarkahL' Ailr^iUiirefi of Israel R. Potter," is the slory, as given by himself, of one of the more 
'humble sufferers in our AVw (for Independence. James Otis, of Massachusetts, and Patrick 

4 



GEORGE F. aX'TT:.E's PUBLICATIOXS. 



Henry, of V!rt;iiiln, form an article, as " The Two Oratorio of our licooluUonary Rra."^ Tlio 
*' Afhierieim}iU of the Amerlnui Ttiujx^vance lic/ormer.-.;'" is the most coniplote history of the 
Temperance subject extant; giving all the facts fiom the discovery of Alcohol, to tlu' hist passage 
ofthi' Maine Law, in lsr>S. Then conies the " Prrd^nt/cff Dtfst^rt ion of. JiAin Chanipo, focdpturo 
thfi Traitor, Benedict Arnolti;" and alter it the '• Ltiiif/ tint/ ,SVf( PerilH of Andrew Sherburne 
in tht' lieeolution, tm velato<l by himself. The Narrative of the ^"-('ruise of the IT. S. Frigate 
JfCsftfr,'''' in the Pacific Ocuan, durin? the last war with KTit;lan<l— in which she swept the Pacific 
of British vi*ssels"— Is replete with novel adventure. The next article Is the '* Wi-^e dud Heroic 
Conduct of ,'ehudl Ashinuii, «.v nhowii in Suvin{f th<' Ainerican Colon// of Liheriti froTn 
j)efitructi/m h'l thp Sii7)(r(jt't, and in fsta'ti-ihin^ it on, a Firm 7?.i.»m/' The Narrative of tho 
"J/tfT Kxpedition,"' with the particulars of the Dccimatiiui of the Prisoners, succeeds; followed 
by '■* Incidents in the Li/a of Ama» Lftwrenro," the Christian Philanthropist, "-Five Years iiiihe 
r. tS. ^-l/-;;)//," is a pinN<nial narrative, written for this work by a Soldier who was ihroush the 
Mexican war: it is foil of details of military life, of a most thrilling kind, sueii as no regular 
history can fumisli. " Kanes Arctic L'irpeditioJi,^' pr^'sonts the main facts of iliat enterprise ; and 
the " Achievements of that Kminent AmfHcuji J/Zw/^jjar//, Ad'Uiiriini Judson," shows what 
frreat results sometimts follow the labors of one good man. " The Conduct of our Country and 
Countrymen in their DijJicuUies with Auxtria,^'' gives the aecount of the Arrest and Jmprimn- 
Tii&nt of a Young Am.'.-irnn in Aii^itri-t ; the Webster and iltilscaiuun correspondence ; Anuri- 
can ifoRpitaWy to tho Hungarian FrUe'i ; anr| the //• roi-^m of Captain Tngraham in the 
Kosta aH'air. The Narrative of some of the "■Philanthrnpic Fnter/'ri.si's"" in the Great Metrop- 
olis — New York — for the benefit of the miserable and dejrraded classes, is full of heart moving 
anecdotes and incidents of real life. "■Amerira at the lVorki\9 f\i'r, and the Virtori/ of the 
Yacht Amerija," over tlie whole lleet of British yachts, succeeds; after whieh is the Narrative, 
"Adventurer and Achievements of Am-'riam-'i Af>ro'ni" \v\\l(^}\ is a collection of interesting 
miscellanies, showing \vhat our country people have aecom[)Ushed, and the impressitpu they make 
in strange lands. The twenty-third, and dosing article of the work, is about seventy pages in 
length, and Is entitled, ** A Clioioe Selection »•( Atnyrif-an PoHn/."' It comprises over one 
hundred of tho best AmeriiMu Poem*;, — Patriotic, Domestic, Religious, Uumorous, etc.,— adapted 
to varied circumstances, and to all kinds of taste. 

lIii|>reccd(MBtod aaiil Exlraos'diiiary Sii(tu<!ciiieiBes for 
the PiiUIh^ to Fiirtf'liase. 

The engravings In this work have been rarely eq'i;d.-<l in point of elegance in execution and 
Ppirlt of expression, and are by tlio mo^t skillful of Am-riean artists. 

But, not stopping with these, we have, at an additional expense of about four hundred dollars, 
had designed, expressly for tho subscribers of the work, by that Artist of surpassing merit, Mr. F. 
O. C. Darley, and engraved most beautifully on steel, one of the most sublime and tragic scenO' 
In American History, entitled " Tlio I.:i.st AVords of Capt, Nathan llale the Hero Martyr oi tlic 
Ameri'-au Uevolntiun. ' — 

"My only Rf.gret is, tii \t I uwk iut Ovf. Lh'k to Losb foii mv CoiTNTav."' 

This Kngraving is a Cabinet picture. K;\-h subscriber is dven a copy, which is separate from 
tho work, that he may frame it, and adorn liis walls with a scene so elevating in its tendency, as 
an example of lofty Patriotism, and heroic self-sacridee. This being an original Avier'i'an 
Cup!//-ight picture, would readily retail, by the juint puhlisluns, at about Two Dollars a 
.single Impression. It, however, can only be obtained In connection with the purch.'vse of 
our book. 

In conclusion, the publi-'her states that he has been generous in expense of time and means to 
make this book every way wortliy. Those who obtain it will be prond of the fncts it contains ; 
for it lias much, very much, in it, to Send a thriU if pat. ioti<-- pride and Joy ti> the heart of ,v ry 
true Ainerican. 

Among the many recommendations rctived for this work, we annex one dven by the Facnlty 
of Hanover College, Indiana; also, by sevriai of the prnfLssors of Dartmouth College, N. II. 

RECOMMENDATIONS. 

"We take pleasnre In recommending '* Ifoire's AchiiVfmentit of Amn-ii^anf^'' as a work descry 
Ing of public patronage. Its articles are varied, interesting and instructive; thi'ir moral tone is 
excellent and they are well a<laitted to cultivate an enlightened i)atriotism. Tho pai'cr, type, 
binding and engravings are uncommonly good, and the largo engraving for framing ll^iic of the 
most beautiful and alTecting we have ever seen. "SVc think tlie general (Circulation *i* the work 
would be a public benefit 

S. IT. Thompson, Acting President, IIano\er (."ollege; 

G. FiNin.RV Ckowk. Professor of Khetorlc, Hanover College; 

MiNAitiJ STunoES. I'rofossor of Greek, Hanover College ; 

Tiio>[A.s S. Cbowe, Pastor Presbyterian ('liurcli,at Hanover; 

Mosm Ai:.s"ott, Pastor Scceder Church, at Hanover. 

I have looked at the '■'•Afhiei^eTnenia of Ameriran»,''^ a!id should juilgo It to be very valuable 
and Intercstihg. It would be a valuable book for leferenee 

Prof. J. \V. Pattruson, Dartmouth College, N. H., 
Prof C. D. SanuorN, 

Prof G. W. I'UTNAM, 

IIanoter, New Hampshire. Prof. S. G. Bkown. 

Bkooklyn, Lono Island 
I have read the ^'Achievements of Americans " wiib pleasure, and recommend the work to th« 
notice of the public. 

Sam'l S. PowEf.u Mayor of Brooklyn, N. Y. 



GEOUGE F. TUTTLES PUBLICATIONS. 



Brooklyn. L. I. 
I have examined the book entitled *^A('7tierfiments of American /!.'''' It appears to be not only 
an attractive but an instiuctive and nseful book. 

IIenrt J. Van Dyke, M. D 
I concur in the above. RtTFTia W. Clark, D. D. 
So do I. E. U. Canfield, D D. 
I concur in the above. 8. T. Speak, B. B. 

Tn addition to tlie above we subjoin a notice from the Ifadlson Courier, not so ninch for tlio 
recommendation of our book; hut for the enii twit t (/ood ^^nsc shown iu its conmients upon the 
etib-^cription businops: — the com]>liments to ourselves we do not object to, for it lias been with 
us the labor of years to deserve them : 

Agents' Books — ffniv's AchieA'evieni.t of Americans. — The circulation of books by subscrip- 
tion through agents has grown to be a business of great extent and importance in onr country 
Mitliin the last few years. One or mure such may be found in almost every house, and few parts 
of our immense teriitnry have not been pervaded ' y the indefatigable book or map agent. Some 
of the woiks thus circniated are both valuable and interesting, and a great deal is tlnis added to 
the genr-ral stock of knowledge, especially among that part of tlie community, always by far the 
most numerous. \\ lio do not read many books. The one book becomes a daily companion, and is 
thnmbed and talkeil over till its contents are thoroughly mastered, and more intellectual nourish- 
ment and strength tlni« derived from it. than from the voracious, unreflecting perusal of a large 
library. '* The man of one book," is i)roverbiaI!y a dangevons antagonist. 

Somu of the b<H)ks thus diffused have been humbugs ; others, good, but ill suited for popular 
perusal — such as the enoimous Ifi-^fojit'-'! r>fthe Wor.d, that have been sold extensively but never 
read; while otliers may be found in every bookstore at a much less price than the unwary pnr- 
chaser, unfaniiiiar with Iho trade, has paid for them. And a strong prejudice has thus boon 
implanted in the minds of very many agjiinst all book agents, and books sold bj' subscription— a 
prejudice by which tlie innocent and meritorious often sutfer most unjustly. I'^or it is indct-d a 
great i)ublic service to place many thousands of an entertaining and instructive book in the hands 
of the people, and b-* who is thus cugngod has no need to be ashamed of his calling. 

We have been led to these observations by the receipt, from II. Howe, of Cincinnati, Ohio, the 
well-known jiublisher of agenU^ hookn, of a cojiy of his AfhUvcni^nia of Arnfricans, with tliy 
acconijianying engi-aving of ^i' H.veculion of t'apt. Nathan Hale. Mr. Howe's publications are 
well known tliroughout the laud. He has ei-tiO'li^thrd a charavier everj/ivheref<>r the substantial 
ral'uo of hi.-i hooks, and th'.' a'.s<ihit'' gootl faith ohs.:rred in their circulation. They are always 
equal to the sample copy, are sold always at one price, which is never lowered, and can be 
obtained only from his .lirc'ds — not a copy having ever been sold to booksellers. 

Tills book desen'e'5 a large circulation.' It will make it^ rfadersu4ser and tetter wmavd 
pntj-iots. The engraving is one of the finest: works of art wc have seen, and cannot be looked at 
by any lover of liberty without a thrill of emotion. 

" A brief examination of this bonk has led to the conclusion that it is ri 7C077j of peculiar 
tnerit., and one that any AjU'^rica?!. will be delighted to read, and glad to havein. his family/ It 
is especially adapted to inspire a noble ambition in the minds of young Americans, by showing; 
"Sfbat our countrymen have already achieved. — Wii. H. Jeffeets, I'astor of M. E. Church, 
Mount Holly, N. J." 

Religious Emblems Sc Allegories : 

Being a Series of Emblematical Engravings, witli -wiitten Ex- 
planations. Miscellaneous Observations and Religious 
Reflections, designed to illustrate Divine Truth, 
in accordance •with the Cardinal Prin- 
ciples of Christianity. 

BY REV. JOHX AVM. HOLLIES AND JOHN \V. BARBER. 

This is a duodecimo volume, illustrated by seventy-five engravings and a large folding colored 
plate representing, allegorically, •' The Koad to Heaven and the Kuad to Hell." The book is 
something on tlie plan of Bunyan's Pilgrim's progress, and is exceedingly liked by the moral and 
reli-dous part of the coruinunitv Over forty thousand copies have been sold in the western 
States alone. The qaainlne-s oftlie pictures and the novelty of the work make it attractive to nil 
classes. This little v tin me has bpon the means of tlia rouversiou of numbers to the doctrines and 
membership of the Church of Christ. 

THeTbOOK OF ILLUSTEATED PKOVERBS, 

Interspersed -with JSTumerous Enoravings and Dsscriptions ; adapted 
for the use of all ages and classes of parsons. 

BY JOHN W. BARBER. 
This id a work by one of the authors of the Religious Emblems, and is designed as a mate to 
that. It has about eighty engravings, and a large folding plate, the hitter illustrating fho 
IVoveros of Solomon in a series of twenty original designs. The book is but recently published. 
It hns all the quainf ness and novelty of the emblems, and is beUeve'l by the author that it will 
eveeed in popularity even thit work, which is so original and attractive tl>at Jt has been ro- 
pubMslwtd iu iLiiropo. 

6 



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